Her Mother's Daughter
by frustratedstudent
Summary: AU: Fantine takes Cosette with her to Montreuilsurmer. UPDATE: Introducing briefly Grantaire, and also what became of the Thenardiers.
1. No Place Like Home

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, or situations depicted in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables. They belong to him, and his descendants._

**Her Mother's Daughter ******

**Chapter 1: No Place Like Home**

_Montreuil-sur-mer, 1817_

A quick splash of water over her face was the best Fantine could manage at the moment. As she retied her kerchief over her hair, she couldn't help but glance about anxiously, hoping no one would pass her on the road.

"What would I say if anyone asked?" she wondered nervously as she threw her comb back into her carpetbag haphazardly.

Someone tugged on the hem of her skirt. "Maman?"

Fantine smiled radiantly as she picked up her daughter. "We're almost there, my love. Can you be very quiet, for me? There is much I have to do," she said in a whisper.

Cosette's blue eyes were large as she nodded trustingly. Despite having spent the night on the roadside, her dress was still clean, even dainty with its ribbons and trimmings. Fantine's simple garb was also neat, but if one had examined her collar, one might have spotted tearstains there.

A carriage rumbled in on its way to the town proper. Fantine quickly lowered her head in order to look inconspicuous. However, Cosette squirmed restlessly as she tried to get a look at the scene around her.

It was only after the carriage was safely inside the town that Fantine dared to breathe a sigh of relief. "_God, how are we going to manage?"_ she asked quietly as she finally dared to trudge forward. Her feet felt heavy, almost as if they were begging her to repent of her choice.

Still, Fantine forced herself to walk down the newly-paved road towards the center of the town. There perhaps, she might be able to better get her bearings. Also, her curiosity drew her forward; when she had left, Montreuil-sur-mer had been rundown and decrepit, but now the houses were larger and more well-kept. She caught sight of a large factory near the main road, bustling with activity.

"Who owns that?" she asked a woman hurrying in.

The crone stared at Fantine as if the latter had suddenly said something very idiotic. "Monsieur the mayor of course! Why are you looking for a place there, girl?"

"Well, yes," Fantine said, keeping her grip tight on Cosette.

The older woman glanced from Fantine to Cosette with a skeptical look. "So she's yours?"

"Her father is gone," Fantine answered more curtly than she'd intended. The woman's expression softened from surprise to sympathy. 

"Well, there's nothing much you can do about that, child," the crone said. "Come now, you'd better ask about your place early. The foreman won't like a latecomer."

Fantine set Cosette down, the latter having insisted through her restless stirring that she wished to walk. She linked her slender hand with her daughter's plump one as they went into the factory.


	2. The Benevolent and the Prying

**The Benevolent and the Prying**

Inasmuch as Fantine marveled at the spacious, well-kept factory, she dared not raise her eyes too far as she searched for the foreman's office. The young woman cautiously ambled along the hallways, taking care to speak as little as possible. However, Cosette was another story. The little girl giggled merrily, looked around at everything she passed, and a few times attempted to speak with the workers who chanced upon them.

At one point, Fantine scooped up her daughter. "Cosette, we must behave ourselves properly, or I won't find a place," she whispered into the child's ear.

Cosette heedlessly looked past her mother. "Maman, look!" she said cheerily, pointing to someone standing behind Fantine.

Fantne whirled around to find herself face to face with a gentleman with graying hair. "Good day to you, Monsieur," she said politely, bowing her head in deference.

"Your child is very charming, Madame," the man said. "You are seeking a job here?" he added.

"Yes, Monsieur," Fantine said more quietly, noting the neatness of this man's apparel. "_Perhaps he is someone of importance."_

Someone ran up the hallway in their direction. "Monsieur Madeleine!" a woman called loudly.

M. Madeleine turned and bowed by way of greeting. "Madame Victurnien, I was about to look for you," he said drolly.

Madame Victurnien stood up straight, primly smoothing down her dress. Her sharp eyes seemed rather harried, as if she had been called out of a very important matter. She did not seem to notice Fantine. "I cannot find the accounts of the funds," she said to M. Madeleine.

"They are in my office, Madame. I will have them returned to you as soon as I can," M. Madeleine said. He glanced towards Fantine. "This young lady needs a place in the workshop. See that she finds one, and is given her wages."

"Ah." Madame Victurnien said, looking at Fantine. Her eyes narrowed however when she caught sight of Cosette, who had her face buried in Fantine's dress.

M. Madeleine noticed the older woman's gaze. "Madame, have you any family in Montreui-sur-mer?" he asked Fantine.

"No, Monsieur," Fantine said calmly.

"Have you a place to keep your child?" Madame Victurnien asked. "Children are not allowed in the workshop."

Fantine felt her cheeks redden. "I will find a room by the end of the day."

"Arrangements can be made, just for today," M. Madeleine cut in. "I know you will want to take your wages home."

Madame Victurnien had been about to say something, but now she opened and closed her mouth as if the words had been taken out of it. At last, she nodded. "Very well then, Monsieur Mayor," she said deferentially.

"Thank you, Monsieur," Fantine said to M. Madeleine.

"Do not mention it," M. Madeleine said. "What is your name, Madame?"

"Fantine."

"Fantine and…."

Fantine turned even more scarlet. "I do not know, Monsieur."

M. Madeleine nodded understandingly. "And your daughter?"

"I call her Cosette," Fantine answered more proudly. She had thought of giving the child's real name Euphrasie, but she decided there was no need for it.

"Madame Victurnien will assist you. Good day, ladies," M. Madeleine said before continuing on his way. Fantine sighed with relief before she felt Madame Victurnien's hand on her arm.

"The workshop is this way," the woman said curtly. "Your place is near the door. There, your work will be explained to you. This is a glass and beads factory, and you must be careful."

Fantine momentarily glanced at her hands, wondering what condition they would be in after some weeks of working in the factory. "Thank you for your help, Madame Victurnien."

The older woman smiled with a look of self-satisfaction. "Your little girl's father---where is he?" she asked all of a sudden as they arrived at the workshop door.

Fantine swallowed hard. "He is gone."

"Dead?" Madame Victurnien asked.

Fantine nodded quickly. "To me."

Cosette stirred uneasily. "But Maman—"

"He's not coming back, Cosette," Fantine interrupted as she dared to step into the workshop, aware of all the eyes suddenly glancing at her.


	3. Someplace Above Unease

_I have to introduce two new characters here, who I own. Victor Hugo never said at what age Feuilly lost his parents. So I write them in here._.

**Someplace Above Unease**

Despite the slight cloud of foreboding in her mind, Fantine was still ecstatic when she left the factory at the end of the day.

"We'll find some place soon enough to stay, Cosette," the young woman said eagerly as she strolled with her daughter. The twilight was descending fast, and lamps were being lit in windows already.

"Where, Maman?" Cosette asked, clutching Fantine's hand tightly.

"I'm not sure yet," Fantine said quietly, willing herself not to think of the twenty-three francs she had with her. Twenty was all she had saved after her journey, and three was from her day's work.

The streets were better lit these days than they had been when Fantine was a little girl. Gradually, she felt her fear dissipate as she and Cosette wandered the neighborhood, looking for a friendly face or at least an open door. Twenty attempts at inquiries had not been particularly fruitful. Now and then, Fantine would hear the voice of some long-lost acquaintance, and she would be forced to hide her face.

At long last, mother and daughter arrived in the southern side of the city. This place was full of small, tumble-down houses hastily built by families of modest means. Here, Fantine felt she could stand straighter. Cosette, being aware of the change in her mother's posture, soon began to run a few steps ahead of Fantine.

"Cosette, come back! It's getting dark!" Fantine called after some time.

The little girl merely giggled. "Maman, look!" she grinned, pointing to a window where a colored glass ornament was strung, casting the light into diamonds and bursts of red and blue.

Fantine smiled at this quaint sight. "That's lovely, but we still have to look for a place to stay, Cosette." An idea suddenly flashed into her mind and she boldly went to knock on the door.

A tall man opened the door. "Good evening, mademoiselle," he said, wiping his grimy hands on his trousers.

Fantine swallowed hard. "Monsieur, my little girl and I need a place to stay. I am willing to pay, Monsieur," she said quickly.

The man glanced behind him. "Bernadette!" he shouted.

A spindly woman wearing a neat red dress and a clean apron soon made her appearance. "What is it, Jerome?"

"A girl here wants some lodging," Jerome replied. "She has a child with her."

"Oh!" Bernadette said. "Well, I was merely suggesting last week that we take a boarder."

"Well we have one now," Jerome replied, opening the door wider to admit Fantine and Cosette into the front room.

"You have a name, I suppose?" Bernadette asked Fantine kindly.

"You can call me Fantine."

"And the little girl?" Bernadette practically cooed.

"Her name is Cosette."

"Ah, that is lovely," Bernadette said. "Such a sweet child!" she added, lightly pinching Cosette's rosy cheek.

Cosette squirmed and hid behind her mother's skirt while Jerome laughed. "She's a shy one, eh? Hopefully she's not as mischievous as my son---Bernadette, where has Gilles gotten off to?" Jerome asked.

"He went out to play and he hasn't come back yet," Bernadette said, wringing her hands.

Jerome rolled his eyes. "Wait till that rascal gets home," he muttered. He glanced at Fantine's carpet bag. "Your room is upstairs. There are only two rooms upstairs anyway, and well, we do well with one, so you can have the other."

"Thank you, Monsieur---" Fantine said, wondering how to address the landlord.

"Enough with the 'Monsieur'. 'Feuilly' will do, but the neighbors of course call me 'Jerome', and my wife 'Bernadette'." Jerome said. "I'm a craftsman, as you can see," he said, pointing to the glass window.

Bernadette led Fantine and Cosette up the rickety stairs to a narrow passage with two doors. The housewife opened the door on the right to reveal a small room with a rickety bedstead bearing a clean mattress. The only other piece of furniture was a small chest of drawers. "It's not much, but will it do?" she asked Fantine.

"Oh very well, Madame Feuilly, I mean, Bernadette," Fantine said happily.

"I'll leave you the candle and I'll fetch the spare coverlet," Bernadette said before shutting the door.

Fantine lost no time in unpacking. Most of the limited drawer space was soon filled with Cosette's dresses. Fantine had just enough room to put away her own clothing, leaving almost everything else in her carpetbag.

Cosette had managed to climb up on the bed and she bounced on it playfully. Fantine laughed and smoothed down Cosette's hair. "Don't do that, petite. You mustn't ruin the bed," she scolded lightly.

"No!" Cosette said defiantly.

"Cosette—" Fantine began more firmly before the door opened again.

"Ah, comfortable already, I see?" Bernadette said gaily. She handed Fantine a heavy sheet. "It may seem a bit much, but as you can see, it's not easy to have a fire in this house."

"Still, it will do nicely," Fantine said.

Bernadette smiled wearily. "Gilles, come up here now!" she called to someone in the hallway.

A scruffy boy of about thirteen peered into the room. His wiry hair was caked with dirt and his clothes were spattered with paint. "Good evening, Madame," he said to Fantine.

Bernadette sighed and crossed her arms. "Fantine, this is my son Gilles. Gilles, meet Fantine, our new lodger, and her daughter Cosette. I expect you to be very polite to both of them."

Gilles stood up straight. "Very well then, Maman."

"You've been painting again, I see." Bernadette reprimanded. "I know I can't stop you, but do be careful, Gilles. I can't afford to send you to school, or get a new shirt."

Gilles threw up his hands. "Maman, I don't need to go to school if I want to paint. And no shop will take me, not now."

"Your father and I don't want you to stay…like this!" Bernadette retorted.

Fantine cleared her throat. "Bernadette…" she whispered, moving to close the door.

The housewife colored on realizing that she and her son had been arguing in front of the newcomers. "I'm sorry," she said. "Fantine, were you and Cosette planning on looking someplace for dinner?"

"Well---"

"You can forget those plans," Bernadette grinned. "We may not be rich, but we can keep a good table. I'll call you when I have dinner ready," she said before leading her son off down the stairs.


	4. Storm Clouds

**Storm Clouds**

After her initial difficulties were resolved, it was almost too easy for Fantine to be lulled into believing that she could get by with no troubles of her own. The fact that the Feuillys were kind to her and Cosette, and that Cosette seemed to adapt well to the arrangement did much to ease Fantine's mind.

About two months after arriving in town, Fantine was walking back to the Feuillys' house when she heard what sounded like angry voices in the street. A cold feeling settled in her gut as she hurried over to where some of the neighborhood boys were congregating. It was a sight she was accustomed to in her younger years, and the light scars on her hands were testament to the fact.

As she drew nearer, she could see that Gilles stood in the middle of the circle. He had a huge bruise on his face and dirt caked his hair, but he still had his fists clenched as he faced down the taller boy glowering at him.

"You don't say that about my father! He wouldn't do a thing like that!" Gilles shouted at the tough.

"Oh? Ask that little girl then! Why else do you think she and her mother can still stay in your house? You can't expect to keep a lodger for more than the warmth she may give!" the bigger boy laughed.

Fantine felt her knees grow weak even though she willed herself to run to Gilles' defense. Before she could take a step, someone had broken out of the circle.

"Maman, they won't stop!" Cosette wailed as she buried her face in Fantine's skirt.

Fantine scooped up her daughter concernedly. "What happened?" she asked, but Cosette merely shook her head.

The boys suddenly fell silent when they realized Fantine was standing nearby. Gilles shoved his way out of the crowd and sighed as he looked at Fantine. "Good evening Madame," he greeted wanly.

"And you too, Gilles," Fantine said as calmly as she could. She fixed the bully with a look. "And to you too as well, young man, though I do not know what you are talking about," she said more softly before turning to go in the house.

Bernadette came right out of the kitchen just as Fantine entered the front room. "My God, what's happened to you both?" Bernadette asked, nearly dropping her embroidery.

Fantine set down Cosette before collapsing into a chair. "They can talk!" she murmured bitterly. Since the lamp in the room was dim, the tear-stains on her cheek were hidden.

Bernadette glanced outside. "They are just children," she said reassuringly, sitting down next to Fantine.

Fantine shrugged heavily. "Children don't make up such things so easily. I should know." She felt as if the room would spin the more she attempted to comprehend what had happened. "_Are people starting to talk?_" she wondered.

Just then, Gilles trudged into the house. "Sorry about that, Maman," he said.

Bernadette jumped up. "Gilles, come here. You shouldn't have been fighting!"

Gilles' eyes blazed. "They insulted Madame Fantine and Cosette," he said.

"That's no reason to try to hit back, especially when you'll get bruises," Bernadette retorted. "And don't speak to your mother that way," she said before retreating to get a wet cloth.

Fantine turned to the boy. "You didn't have to make all that trouble for us."

"Papa says a gentleman shouldn't allow anyone to insult a lady." Gilles grinned. "And there were two of you."

"Speaking of which, where is your father?" Bernadette asked, returning to the front room.

Cosette pointed to the door. "Out?"

"We know that, Cosette, but out is a big place," Fantine said, rearranging the little girl's hair ribbons. She noted some smudges on her daughter's dress, and she rubbed the dirt off as best as she could.

Cosette squirmed in Fantine's grip. She stared at Gilles intently before pointing to his eye.

The young boy laughed and shook his head. "It's not nice to point, Cosette."

Suddenly, a heavy knock sounded on the door. Fantine nodded to Bernadette before going to greet the caller.

A tall man in a greatcoat stood outside. His stern face was made almost terrible by the grim look in his eyes. "Madame Bernadette Feuilly?" he asked gruffly.

Fantine stepped aside as Bernadette came forward. "Monsieur?" the housewife asked anxiously. "Who are you?"

"Merely an inspector," the caller said. "I regret to inform you, Madame, that your husband has been taken into the infirmary. He was injured while working with the other artisans."

Bernadette would have fallen to the floor if Gilles and Fantine had not rushed forward. "How? What happened? Can I see him?" she asked frantically as she grabbed on to Fantine's arm for support.

"I do not know, Madame. I was only asked to inform you. I am sorry," the Inspector said, somberly tipping his hat. "Good evening."

For one silent moment, the stunned trio watched the man leave. Fantine stirred first and tugged on Bernadette's arm. "We must see him right away," she said.

Bernadette nodded. "You're right. Gilles, dear, fetch my shawl and my hat. And get your coat," she said weakly.

"Will you need my help?" Fantine asked Bernadette kindly.

"Thank you, but I think I need someone to manage here for a while—just a few hours, Fantine," Bernadette said distractedly.

The younger woman nodded. "I do not mind. And I hope M. Jerome is safe when you find him."

"Thank you!" Bernadette murmured just as Gilles returned with the shawl and the hat. She self-consciously wrapped the darned shawl around her shoulders before straightening out her son's coat collar.

Fantine waited till they were out of sight before going to check on the lamp. She wiped it with a handkerchief of hers before sitting down on the chair again.

Cosette climbed into her lap. "I'm sleepy," she murmured.

"I know," Fantine said, kissing the top of her daughter's head. She took a deep breath as she tried to figure out what to do next to alleviate her worry. The only sensible solution however was inaccessible at the moment, but she knew it would be worth one last try. "_I have to write to Felix. And please, God, let him listen to me this time!_"


	5. The Simplicity of Doing

**The Simplicity of Doing**

Fantine did not remember falling asleep in her chair, not till she was awoken by someone shaking her shoulders.

"Madame! It's already past six in the morning," Gilles' frantic voice greeted her as she opened her eyes.

Fantine bolted upright in her seat. "Oh good morning then! I did not hear you or your mother come in!" she exclaimed.

Gilles scratched his head. "Maman is still with Papa. He hasn't woken up yet," he said grimly.

"What really happened to him?" Fantine asked concernedly.

Gilles bit his lip. "Papa and some of his friends were working in a shop when a shelf near them suddenly fell. Papa got hit in the head and he fell down---" he began shakily.

Fantine bit back an expression of shock. Instead, she held the boy by his shoulders. "Your father is a strong man, and he will get better. Till then, you have to be strong for your mother," she said quietly.

Gilles nodded. "You? Have you lost your father?"

"I don't remember him at all," Fantine replied. "Are you going back to the infirmary?"

"Maman said I should rest. And I'll take care of Cosette," Gilles said more brightly.

Fantine managed a smile. "Be good then. Now, I'm off to work," she said before running off upstairs to where she had left Cosette fast asleep on the bed. The little girl still dozed even while Fantine rushed to ready for the day. For a moment, as Fantine watched her daughter, she could not help but envy the cherubic slumber the child still enjoyed.

"God help us," she murmured as she ran down the stairs and out the door.

Fantine's main work in the factory was to thread the finished glass beads so that they could be sold in strands and bunches. While she worked to coax a stubborn bead onto the string, she could not help but overhear the chatter of the other women who had the same job.

"I should want to go to Paris one day. This place is dreadfully rustic in comparison!" a middle-aged woman said dramatically.

"On the contrary, it is a perilous place. Morals gone and urban rabble there," an older woman gesticulated.

"Well, one of us here should know," a younger girl said impishly. "Fantine!" she called.

Fantine nearly dropped the strand she was holding. "What then?" she asked.

"Is it true you have been to Paris?" the first woman asked.

"For a while," Fantine said with a smile.

"And you had a job there?"

"As a seamstress."

The other women exchanged glances. "So you know something of Parisian society then?" the youngest asked.

Fantine sighed, bidding herself to check her tongue. "You meet an awful lot of people in Paris—more than here, I should say. Girls like us, bourgeoisie, working men, a few criminals, and yes, some fine students and wealthy men."

"Are they handsome?" the youngest asked before she was pinched by her neighbor.

"Ladies! What is this I see when there is work to be done?" Madame Victurnien asked sharply as she passed by holding a basket.

"Just asking Fantine about Paris, Madame!" someone said cheerily.

The crone's indignant expression soured even further. "You are aware that idle chatter and laziness cannot be tolerated here!" she said crossly to Fantine.

Fantine lowered her gaze to the floor, knowing it would be unwise to look Madame Victurnien in the eye.. "It will not happen again, Madame."

"See to it that it doesn't," Madame Victurnien snapped, cursorily examining the strand Fantine was threading before walking off.

The workshop table was silent for a few moments. At last, the youngest of the girls dared to clear her throat. "So what then?" she asked Fantine.

Fantine swallowed hard. "Later. But tell me, Louise, is there still a letter-writer in this town?"

Louise nodded. "Not far from here, two doors down. And there are others."

"Thank you," Fantine whispered. "Does he charge much?"

Louise shrugged. "It depends. More for big words."

"I do hope it won't be very much then," she murmured. "_Well, Felix is still luckier. He knows big words and he doesn't need to have someone write them down for him,_" she thought ruefully as she turned back to her work.


	6. A Message Sent, News Given

**A Message Sent, News Given**

"And you are sending this to M. Felix de Tholomyes?" the bespectacled letter-writer asked Fantine skeptically.

"Yes, Monsieur," Fantine said deferentially. "40 Rue Saint Clare in Toulouse," she added.

"I have gotten it right, Mademoiselle," the letter writer said in a patronizing voice. "I must say, you sound as if you want to complain more harshly."

"Surely telling him that I'm in a dire situation is bad enough," Fantine said to herself. She raised her eyes to catch the leering man's sneer. "Monsieur, I beg you, do not tell anyone else." 

"The secret will die with me," the letter-writer said as he packed up his paper and shook his pen gingerly.

"Thank you, Monsieur," Fantine said as she got up from the tavern table and trudged back out into the street. It was already past six-thirty in the evening and a chilly wind blew through the town. Fantine stuck her hands in her sleeves for warmth as she walked back to the Feuillys' house.

"_I need to give Cosette a wool skirt, even if she wants a doll so badly. By next week, I shall have enough saved for both,"_ she daydreamed. "_And if Felix replies..."_

The memory of her former lover was enough to dispel the rosy thoughts in her mind. "It is just a desperate hope---hoping he can care for Cosette even if he has cast me aside," she muttered.

As she turned the corner into the narrow street, she saw what looked like a black shape headed in her direction. Fantine almost turned to flee before she realized it was a woman who was coming to speak to her.

"Bernadette? My God, did Monsieur Jerome---" she whispered before she caught sight of her friend's haggard face.

Bernadette nodded as she wiped at her bloodshot eyes. She blew her nose on her shabby black veil. "Just earlier this afternoon. I'm only running home to get some money to bury him," she said brokenly. 

Fantine nodded as she felt Bernadette grab her arm for support. "I'm sorry, Bernadette."

The older woman nodded firmly. "Cosette is in the house, with Gilles. They've been waiting for you," she said.

"I'll just go in to greet them, and I'll help you out," Fantine said. 

"Thank you," Bernadette murmured. "I have to speak with the cure, and beg him to give Jerome a good burial," she said before she continued on her way.

Fantine ran back to the small house, where she was greeted by Cosette grabbing her leg. "There, good evening, darling," she said as she lifted her daughter.

Gilles, who had been sitting in a corner, looked up at Fantine and Cosette. "Did you see my Maman?"

Fantine nodded consolingly. "I'm sorry."

Gilles nodded as his shoulders shook. "What will happen now?" he asked anxiously.

Fantine sat down beside the child, unsure what to say. "God will help us," she said quietly.

"God doesn't have need of my father. We need him more," Gilles muttered vehemently.

"Gilles, don't say that!" Fantine exclaimed.

The boy stood up and shrugged. "I think I'm going to have to take my father's place at work."

"You're so young!"

"Is there any other way?"

Fantine felt her argument die on her lips. "Maybe not," she said, looking around and back down at Cosette, who was beginning to doze off.


	7. A Shard of Happiness

_Since I don't want to leave this fic on a sad note on Christmas, here's a chapter for you guys. Merry Christmas!_

**A Little Shard of Happiness**

For several days, Fantine had pretty much forgotten to take a look at the calendars. It was only after Jerome Feuilly's funeral that, as she swept the small hall of the bereaved family's home, she cared to take a look at the mantelpiece.

"_Cosette's birthday!_" she realized as she looked at the date. Had it really been so long, she wondered.

"Oh, what day is it today?" she heard Bernadette ask from nearby.

"My daughter is three years old now," Fantine grinned.

Bernadette's drawn face suddenly lit up with surprise. "Well then, we have to do something for her! I'll ask Gilles to get a cake on his way back from work." she said, trying to force some mirth into her tired voice.

"I'll see to everything. I know you have much to do, so you shouldn't bother so much," Fantine insisted.

Bernadette held up a hand. "I've been weeping a bit too much, Fantine. I'm afraid I can't see out of my eyes," she said as she put on an apron.

Fantine bit her lip as she put on a cap and headed out towards the factory. "_If Cosette was a bit bigger, I'd have to have her educated_" she thought. The image of her daughter holding a pencil in her pudgy hands and trying to spell out the alphabet brought a smile to Fantine's face. It was something she believed she was too late to learn.

"My, oh my, aren't you quite the lark today?" Louise laughed as she watched Fantine humming at work.

Fantine stopped humming as a blush rose to her cheeks. "A happy occasion, that's all."

"It's a young man! Why else would you ask about a letter writer?" Louise teased.

Fantine shook her head as Tholomyes' face surged back into her memory. "I just heard from an old friend," she murmured.

Louise exchanged a look with her neighbor. "So I was wrong?" she whispered.

"Maybe not. You'll see yet," the crone replied.

Fantine stepped away from them as she tried to focus on her work. A jet bead slipped from her grasp and rolled to the floor. As she bent over to retrieve it, someone stepped on her skirt and tore it.

"Oh!" she cried out indignantly. The tear was not high up, but it was large enough to be noticed. She took off her hatpin and crudely pinned up the tear. When she straightened up, she could see that some of the women were holding back their laughter.

Just then, Madame Victurnien came walking up. "The foreman is giving the wages today," she informed them matter-of-factly. She gave Fantine a dark look, seeing that the younger woman's face was covered with dust. "Is something wrong there?"

Fantine wiped her face with her sleeve daintily. "Just a minor incident, Madame," she said primly.

Madame Victurnien glanced at the worktable. "Are you done with the strands yet?"

"Well of course!" Fantine replied, handing over the strands of beads that she had already finished. The incredulous look on Madame Victurnien's face as she put the beads in the basket was a reply enough.

Right after work, Fantine ran off to the shops, holding her new wages in hand. "_It's reason enough not to save this week!_" she reminded herself. There was just enough for the rent that she owed Bernadette, and for the next few days' meals. Whatever money she was hoping to set aside would have to go to Cosette's present.

As she walked around, she noticed a child's dress in a shop window. It was made of wool and had long enough sleeves for the impending winter. "I used to make dresses much finer than that," she whispered as she dashed in.

The shop clerk looked up at her. "Anything you want, Mademoiselle?"

"How much for that dress?" Fantine asked.

"Three francs,"

"I'll take it," Fantine said, putting a five-franc piece on the counter. She got the dress wrapped in old paper, along with two one-franc pieces. There was just enough for cake, so Fantine thought.

"[i_And if not, I can always get something on credit,_[/i" she thought as she headed towards the baker's. The sun was only beginning to set, but still for no apparent reason, Fantine hurried her steps.

It was almost dark by the time Fantine returned to the house with her packages. Anyone who saw her might have taken her for someone who had just won a great fortune, or who was appointed to nobility. As it was, she did not even notice her shoes going to pieces as she opened the door.

"I'm home, children!" she greeted. Gilles was tiredly reading as Cosette played about with some thread scattered on the floor. Instantly however, Cosette put down her plaything and ran up to her mother.

"Maman, look!" she said, pointing to the awkward knots she'd tied into her dark hair using the bright red thread. "Pretty?"

Fantine laughed at this sight. "Very well, petite. Look what I've got for you," she said as she put down the packages.

Cosette eagerly tore the paper off the dress. "For me, Maman?" she asked incredulously. "It's so warm!"

"It would look very nice on you, Cosette," Gilles said, though it was clear from his tone that he could see the dress' lack of adornment.

Cosette held out her arms for Fantine to help her put on the dress. The mother noted that the child was still too small for the garment that covered her hands and fell past Cosette's bare feet. "_Well, she won't be little for very long_".

Gilles by this time had noticed the cake. "A little celebration?"

"Yes, when your mother gets home. She has been out to give meals to the workers?" Fantine asked the boy as she searched for her sewing basket.

Gilles nodded seriously. "I was given an envelope with some francs today. Not as much as Papa was given, but it will do for now to help my Maman," he said, showing the shiny coins in his reddened hands.

"Now that I think is another reason to be happy," Fantine said as she began folding up the sleeves on Cosette's dress and pinning them up.


	8. The Betterment of Silence

_I have had to revise this thing slightly: I forgot one detail here that has thankfully been pointed out to me by some reviewers. Thanks a lot. _

**The Betterment of Silence**

Days went by, during whcih Fantine had to restrain herself from running too often to the post office in hopes of finding Tholomyes' reply. However, nearly a month went by with no success.

In the meantime, the whispers behind Fantine's back had begun to grow more audible. One morning, when Fantine arrived at the workshop, she could hear the women talking and giggling among themselves. However, when they saw her, they suddenly stopped.

"Why, has something happened?" she asked innocently.

"Oh nothing, Fantine," Louise replied, half-hiding her face. 

Fantine shrugged as she sat down at her usual space. Even as she worked, she could see how some of the women slyly pointed and winked among themselves. Finally, she put down her work and turned to her neighbor.

"There is something about. Why won't you tell me?"

Louise wiped her hands on her skirt. "Well, Madame saw you going to the post office again."

"Madame? As in Madame Victurnien?" Fantine asked.

"Yes, that old bat!"

"Well, what is it to her? I do love to send letters."

"She doesn't see you carrying them."

Fantine sighed deeply as she turned back to her work.

After the last bell of the working day rung, Fantine lost no time in running out the door and up towards the post office. As soon as the postmaster saw her, he winked and handed her an envelope.

"You're pretty insistent, aren't you?" he said knowingly.

Fantine forced herself to smile. "Monsieur, can you read this for me?" she asked, trying not to make her indignity too obvious. 

Suppressing a smirk, the postmaster opened the letter and cleared his throat. "He says, _'To my dear Fantine, ___

_I must ask you to no longer write to me after this. I am very busy now in Toulouse; I have had to hear a good many cases on different matters. My parents too have been asking; you will only bring trouble upon yourself if you persist. I cannot come to Paris, or to Montreuil-sur-mer to help you and the child out. Please understand that this is a necessity, difficult as it may be. ___

_Ever yours, ___

_Felix de Tholomyes'_." 

"You're in a very bad way, girl," the postmaster finished as he handed the letter to her.

"_He says I am asking for the impossible!_ Fantine realized with a shudder. She carefully folded up the letter to reread it, hoping to find a hidden, more benevolent meaning to it. 

Still, as she walked home, she knew deep down there could be none at all. She struggled to smile as she approached her lodgings. Even from outside, she could hear Gilles apparently telling some story to Cosette.

As soon as Fantine opened the door, the little girl let out a shriek of joy and ran to embrace her mother. Fantine sighed as she sat down with the child. "What have you been up to now?" she asked half-cheerily.

Cosette merely grinned. "Stories!"

Gilles considered them seriously. "The men called me too small to be working in my father's place. I have to find something new to do," he said. "I haven't told my Maman yet."

Fantine nodded, almost relieved to hear she wasn't the only one having problems


	9. Ashes in a Cold Hearth

**Ashes In a Cold Hearth**

It would not have been far off the mark to say that Fantine was becoming a wiser, more prudent woman. She learned to stretch her purse for two, to make the eight hours left in her day do for sixteen, and on top of it all to keep Cosette in order.

However, despite all this newfound meticulousness, disaster was still about to strike.

One Sunday, Fantine was woken up by her friend Bernadette shaking her. "What is it now?" she asked, noticing for the first time in many weeks, the widow was dressed gaily.

"I'm going to market today to speak with some old friends. Since Gilles is coming with me, I thought you and Cosette might want to come along," Bernadette answered.

Fantine shrugged, not wishing to remember the condition of her one good dress. "Very well then," she said.

So it was a merry group that walked into Montreuil-sur-mer's small market: the mothers had put on their best clothing, and fussed over their children. Cosette's new dress was made to fit; in fact the little girl was a charming sight as she tried not to trip over the newly trimmed hem. Gilles' new hat looked for once more appropriate on a dandy than it did on a young boy of his age.

After a while, they all went their own ways. Gilles and Cosette had run on ahead to buy some sweets, while Bernadette decided to haggle with some merchants. Fantine on the other hand had her attention caught by some laces in a stall.

"It's not exactly Valeciennes, but it is nice," she reminded herself as she fished for coins in her skirt pocket. As she did this, she noticed a familiar gray head walking by.

"Good morning Madame…Fantine isn't it?" M. Madeleine greeted as he stopped near the stall.

Fantine smiled and managed a curtsy. "Yes, that is how I am called. Are you well, Monsieur Mayor?"

"As can be," the gentleman replied. "Where is your daughter?"

Fantine gestured to where Gilles and Cosette were watching some friends at play. "Over with the other children."

M. Madeleine nodded by way of acknowledgment. "How old is she?"

"Just turned three, Monsieur. I should think of having her educated soon," Fantine blurted out.

M. Madeleine gave her a reassuring look. "There is a school for the small children, on the southern side of town. You will not have to pay very much. You can enroll your daughter there at the end of the summer."

Fantine felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "I shall, Monsieur," she said. For a moment, she thought of applying to him for help, but modesty checked her tongue. "_If only Felix could be so gentlemanly!" _she would have sighed.

M. Madeleine tipped his hat to her. "I shall be going on my way then. Good day to you, Madame Fantine."

"And to you too, Monsieur Mayor," Fantine said, curtsying again. She watched as he went to speak to some tradesmen who owed him a little money. Some small children ran up to him and he handed them a few coins. Smiling at this scene, Fantine went to collect her daughter.

"He is a terribly nice man, isn't he?" Gilles said as he noticed her.

"That he is. He helped me get my place in the factory," Fantine replied.

Cosette squirmed when Fantine tried to pick her up. "I want to run!"

"Not very far off, Cosette," Fantine said, putting down the child. She grinned, realizing it had taken more effort than she'd thought to lift the little girl.

Cosette impetuously stuck her tongue in her mouth. "There's cake over there!"

"Aw, not now Cosette. It's almost luncheon," Gilles chided. He looked around. "Speaking of it, where's my Maman?"

Suddenly, a commotion came from the other end of the market place as some stalls were upset and people began running. "There's robbers! Someone fetch the police!" a wag shouted over the din.

"Let go of my purse you brutes!" a cry came up.

Fantine paled as she recognized the voice. "Bernadette!" she whispered. Gilles sprang past her and dashed to the scene. Fantine quickly grabbed Cosette's hand and followed the boy to the center of the commotion. Before she could get near enough to rescue her friend, suddenly someone yelled out as a body fell to the ground.

"Don't let him get away!" one of the neighborhood toughs roared, trying to restrain a robber who had attempted to disappear.

"The others have run off, but the police will be after them!" a harridan cried.

"Maman! Wake up!" Gilles shouted, trying to rouse his mother, who was bleeding from a wound to her side. "Someone get a doctor!"

Fantine glanced from the injured woman to the knife the robber still held in his hand. "Murderer!" she hissed as she got to her knees to help Gilles staunch the flowing blood from Bernadette's injury.

By this time, M. Madeleine was at the scene. "I have called the doctor and asked for the police. We should take this woman to the infirmary," he said.

"It looks a bit late for that," someone said discreetly.

Fantine willed herself not to listen to this remark. She mechanically moved aside when someone announced the doctor's arrival. She felt a gnawing ache well up within her as she watched Gilles struggle to retain his composure.

"_God, spare him from what I went through!" _ she whispered as she reached for Cosette's hand and followed the rest to the infirmary.


	10. Contempt and Dignity

_A/N: I should warn you guys...I won't be as regular with updating this fic as I usually am. College life is turning out to be a difficult to tame beast._

**Contempt and Dignity**

For a long time after, whispers would persist that Fantine had put on such airs that she did not shed a tear when at last the tragedy had been completed.

The truth was that Fantine did not dare to cry, at least where she could be seen. Only when Cosette and Gilles were both asleep did she dare to weep for her deceased friends.

Some weeks later, Fantine woke up to find her purse empty. _"God, I can't do this alone!"_ she realized as she searched for any sous she might have missed. The expenses for the funeral, combined with the daily problems of feeding and sheltering two children, were more than a match for her.

Trembling, she crept over to the room down the hall, which had been standing empty. Gilles did not dare to sleep there. Fantine felt her heart pounding in her throat as she tiptoed to the small chest that Bernadette and Jerome had kept in a corner. She gingerly searched through the clothing in the receptacle, hoping to find something. However, the chest could not yield anything.

As Fantine exited the room, she heard a step on the stairs. "What are you doing?" she heard Gilles' sleepy voice ask.

"I'm looking for something," Fantine replied cautiously. In the half-light of the almost burned out candle, she could barely distinguish the boy's face. Still, his shadow showed that he had grown a little thinner.

Gilles made a little noise. "We're having problems, aren't we?"

"No, Gilles. Just for today, I should hope. I'm sure we will manage," Fantine said, trying to sound confident.

Gilles shook his head. "Madame Fantine, I can do something to help."

"I won't hear of it, Gilles. Your parents wouldn't want this."

"But what else can we do?"

Fantine felt her heart sink with the truth of the child's words. She thought of Cosette, who had till now been more or less carefree. She went downstairs to where Gilles stood, pallid and wan. She took him by the shoulders. "I'll find something."

Gilles smiled bitterly. "I know this town. It's not enough," he said, getting his coat which hung on a chair. He shrugged it on and headed for the door. "I'll see you later."

"Gilles!" Fantine protested, but she was reduced to having to chase him down the street. In her hurry, she did not notice the simple black and white painting that the boy had made on a sheet of cloth, depicting a man and a woman walking arm in arm.  
For some reason, Gilles had learned to disappear faster than Fantine could run. As the young woman searched up and down the street, she almost did not notice the man standing at the corner.

"Watch your step, Madame," he said, stepping out of the frantic woman's path.

Fantine looked up. "My apologies, Monsieur," she said quickly.

The man tipped his hat to her. "Inspector Javert, at your service. Are you looking for someone?"

Fantine paused, unsure what to do. "M'sieur, have you seen a boy walk down this way? He's not very tall, he has black hair, a pale face, and an old coat?" 

"Not in recent memory. I only arrived here just now," Javert said gravely.

"Oh God!" Fantine cried in despair.

Javert looked at her keenly. "You are that boarder down where the Feuillys used to live?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"And it is their son you are looking for?"

"Well, yes, M'sieur Inspecteur. His name is Gilles."

Javert nodded understandingly. "He may not have gone far. What shall I tell him if I see him?"

"Tell him that Madame Fantine wishes to speak with him as soon as she arrives home. Oh, and he mustn't go about--he might get into trouble," Fantine said. "Will you tell him?"

"I will do my best," Javert said, managing something close to a half-smile on his face.

"Oh thank you, M'sieur Inspecteur Javert!" Fantine said. She heard a door open and shut someplace down the street. Quickly, she ran back to the house to find Cosette on the front stoop.

"What was that about, Maman?" Cosette asked drowsily.

"Nothing, my darling," Fantine said, smoothing out her daughter's hair. 

"Where's Gilles?" Cosette asked.

"He's doing something," Fantine replied. She looked Cosette over. "You should get dressed. You're coming with me today since I can't leave you alone here."

Cosette's face was a mixture of glee and surprise. "But what about Gilles?"

"It will take him some time to get back," Fantine said thoughtfully, knowing that to some degree, she'd spoken the truth.


	11. From Indignity to Indignity

**From Indignity to Indignity**

Half an hour later, Cosette found she could do little more than totter behind her mother, who was running to the factory as if they were being pursued by wolves.

"Maman! Wait!" Cosette cried out when she could not keep up.

Fantine wheeled around with a mortified look. "I'm sorry, petite. But we are in a dreadful hurry."

At the edge of her vision, however, Fantine noticed another woman hurry by. "Louise!" she shouted quickly.

Louise, who was also running late, had to catch herself by grabbing onto a post. "Goodness, Fantine! What is it?"

Fantine gave her friend a supplicant look. "I must ask a very big favor out of you. Things have gone dreadfully wrong, and I need someone to watch my child for the day."

Louise drew back. "My mother has work."

"Your concierge?"

"She is often drunk."

Fantine bit back a cry of despair. "Louise, what can I do? I had her with me in the factory once, but it wasn't such a good thing. If I attempted it once again, Mme. Victurnien will make it her business to know!"

"Madame does not need to know," Louise said brightly. "I know a back way into the workshop by a door from outside into the storeroom and the passage. It leads past M. Madeleine's office, and since he is often busy, no one will catch us. You can bring your little girl in by that way, and hide her better so."

Fantine nodded bravely, seeing no other solution in sight. Trustingly, she followed her friend down a side alley. She felt Cosette's little fist tighten around her skirt as they passed a crate filled with squeaking rats. At the end of the alley, Louise pulled at a heavy door, but only succeeded in having the handle come off in her grip.

"The window," Fantine whispered. Louise laughed dismally as she worked the shutter open and hoisted herself up on the ledge.

Just then, the church bell chimed the hour. "Hurry!" Louise cried. "Hand me the child!"

Fantine lifted Cosette up to Louise's waiting hands. Louise whisked Cosette onto the sill before disappearing herself into the room. Cosette scurried after her, apparently sensing danger. Fantine pushed herself up onto the ledge and nearly slipped as she vaulted into the room. 

She landed in a heap on the floor just as a door swung open. "Intruders!" a foreman cried.

Fantine held out her hands to cover her face. "No! It's just me, Madame Fantine!"

The foreman yanked her to her feet roughly. Fantine nearly retched on smelling the alcohol on his breath. "We'll see what Madame Victurnien, or better yet, M. Madeleine, thinks of this," he hissed in her ear.

"_Oh God...Cosette, please don't say a thing...Louise, please keep her safe..."_ Fantine begged silently as she was led off. However, before the foreman could shut the door, someone slipped out a dark corner.

For the very first time, the very sound of Cosette's voice calling her was enough to let loose Fantine's tears of despair.

"This girl was breaking in the factory! You should see that clearly, Monsieur."

"Mme. Victurnien, if she was truly an intruder, she would not have brought a child with her. "

"M. Mayor, with all due respect, I do think her conduct is unexplainable. It will be a poor example to all the women."

Even though she could only hear their voices, Fantine felt herself trembling all over. Even Cosette's repeated questions or attempts to put a smile on her face could do nothing to ease Fantine's disturbed state.

"And all of this with Gilles still out there," she murmured. "_I should have been more careful not to let Gilles out of the house. I shouldn't have stopped to talk to M. Madeleine and left Bernadette alone in the market. I shouldn't have left Paris. I shouldn't..." _

The door to the office opened slightly. "Monsieur the _Mayor_ wishes to speak with you," Mme. Victurnien said coldly to Fantine.

Fantine dried her face and combed out her now tangled blond tresses. Taking Cosette's hand, she walked into M. Madeleine's office.

The gentleman was standing away from his desk, with a deeply troubled look on his face. "Have a seat," he said to Fantine. Fantine obliged, and set Cosette in her lap.

M. Madeleine cleared his throat. "A report has reached me that you were seen in the storeroom, having climbed in through the window. That is all I know, but I do wish to hear your reason for being in that area," he said firmly. "And also for your daughter's presence in the factory, without permission, apparently." 

Fantine felt her hands grow cold. Shakily she told her tale, beginning from Gilles' disappearance up to her discovery. However, she did her best to conceal Louise's part in it. When at last she finished, she was aware that her throat had gone dry.

Mme. Victurnien merely gave M. Madeleine a sour look. "She answers well."

M. Madeleine rubbed his temples. "At best, I can fine you, Fantine, for that disruption. That, and warn you not to repeat such conduct. As for your daughter, she may stay again in the factory today, but I must ask you to find more appropriate arrangements in advance." 

Fantine would have thrown herself at M. Madeleine's feet were she not holding Cosette. "Thank you, Monsieur!" she exclaimed gratefully. 

M. Madeleine nodded to her and to Mme. Victurnien. "Both of you should go to the workshop now," he said. "And Madame Fantine, I should remind you that there is a school for the young ones in this town, you know."

Fantine nodded shamefacedly. "I shall remember, Monsieur."


	12. Marks of Shame

**Marks of Shame**

The chatter of the women could be heard even fifty paces away from the workshop door, but it died down as soon as Fantine entered with her daughter in tow.

The young woman knew all eyes were on her even as she stood in the doorway. She spied Louise in the throng, her face crinkled up with an expression of mortification.

"Good morning. Did I miss something?" Fantine asked, forcing some cheer into her voice.

"Nothing, Fantine. Who is the little girl again?" a woman asked.

"Her name is Cosette," Fantine replied more brightly. "Cosette, wave to them," she whispered in her child's ear.

Cosette anxiously obeyed, but not after staring at her mother with a fearful expression. "What will we do here?" she asked.

"I have to work, and you have to be quiet. Do it for me, please," Fantine said firmly. Cosette nodded, almost as if she felt the entire world was on her shoulders.

"Such a beautiful child!" one kindly-faced girl said, coming forward to pat Cosette's head. "Where's her father?"

"That's a very good question," Mme. Victurnien said nearby in an undertone.

At this moment, Fantine bit her tongue.

It seemed like an age till the last working bell rang. As men and women streamed out of M. Madeleine's factory, Fantine ambled over to where Cosette had fallen asleep in a chair. Gingerly, she picked up the girl, who murmured softly in her dreams.

Seeing Cosette's peaceful slumber sent a pang of guilt through Fantine's heart. "_My own child is fine, but what of my friends'?"_ she realized. She had quite forgotten about Gilles in the last few hours, and now she had to go seek him before dark.

Out in the street, Fantine looked up and down hoping to see a familiar head of black hair or perhaps Gilles' serious but joyous grin. However, she caught sight of a prison wagon passing by.

The very sight of it was enough to make Fantine's hair stand on end, and to wake up Cosette, who shrieked with fright. As if the little girl's cry had started a storm, shouts emanated from the wagon. A thin hand was thrust out between the bars.

"Madame Fantine!' a voice cried out quickly.

Fantine felt as if her heart would stop. "Oh Dieu, why now, Gilles?" she murmured, turning around to follow the wagon to the local prefecture.


	13. Entrusting

_Sorry for being gone for so long. Anyway, I've managed to shove real life to the side for a little while to work on this: _

**Entrusting**

The everyday chaos near and within the Prefecture would have made a weak head spin, but still Fantine forced herself to assume a straight posture as she approached the inspector on duty.

"What do you want, Madame?" Javert asked coolly.

Fantine cleared her throat even as Cosette ducked behind her skirt. "I have come to inquire after a boy who was brought here. His name is Gilles, he's about thirteen, with dark hair, and he's not that high," she said, holding out her hand to indicate Gilles' height. "May I see him, M'sieur Inspecteur?"

Javert's lip curled with disdain. "He was with a group of vagabonds causing mischief. For that he has to be detained here."

Fantine gripped Javert's desk. "Please M'sieur, even for a moment? I'm all he has left, as you know. His parents are gone---"

"I cannot release him to anyone save his parents or his guardian," Javert said as his eyes narrowed. "Have Monsieur or Madame Feuilly made any arrangements with you to that effect?"

The young woman shook her head slightly. "And what will become of him? I cannot abandon him, it would be unkind to do so. I love him like my own, M'sieur—surely you can understand that?" she asked, hoping her voice did not shake so much.

"I cannot do much for you, not at this point," Javert said firmly. "Take your daughter and go. This is no place for her."

"Monsieur!" Fantine cried, seizing Javert's hand.

Javert jerked away from Fantine's touch. "I must ask you to leave, Madame," he said curtly.

"I will pay the fine then!" Fantine blurted out.

"Twenty francs!" Javert exclaimed. "And you intend to pay that amount now?"

Fantine let out a gasp more out of surprise than of dismay. She folded her hands primly. "I will do what I must, Monsieur," she said quietly as she rummaged through her purse. "_Even if it means my eating less for a week._"

Javert nodded to the warden, who then left the room. A minute later, the burly man returned half-dragging a shame-faced Gilles by his arm. 

Cosette's eyes went round at the sight of her friend. "Gilles, what happened?" she cried out, pointing to the bruises on Gilles' face and the new tears on his clothes.

Gilles grinned half-heartedly at the little girl then at Fantine. "I have had a little trouble, and I'm sorry for it," he said solemnly.

Fantine handed over the money and took Cosette's hand again. "We will go home now," she said firmly.

Gilles trudged behind them on their way out of the Prefecture. "I really meant to do something, Madame Fantine. I was on my way to ask a bit, but the boys down by the way called me over."

Fantine sighed at this tale. "You shouldn't have run off. I am going to see that you and Cosette will go to school. Or you can work as an apprentice if that's what you want."

"Maybe M. Madeleine's factory?" Gilles said hopefully.

Fantine shrugged. "Some other place maybe," she mumbled. _"I can't expect him to be so nice for too long."_

Evening was an unusual time to be running errands, but Fantine knew that there was no other time given to her. As she ambled up to the small café near the factory, she could hear the shouts and laughter of the usual patrons. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of tobacco emanating from a man seated outside the establishment.

She peered at him closely. "Monsieur Lautrec?" she asked.

Monsieur Lautrec, known to the rest of the town as the schoolteacher, raised his head sleepily. "Ah, Mademoiselle…Madame, what can I do for you?"

Fantine managed a confident smile. "I wish to send my little girl to school tomorrow."

"What is her name?" Monsieur Lautrec asked.

"I call her Cosette, but she is really Euphrasie. She is three already, and she is a very good girl. She won't be noisy or bad," Fantine replied.

Monsieur Lautrec smiled cordially as he rummaged in his pocket for paper and a pencil. "Could you write her name down here, so that I can put it in the register when I go home?"

Fantine grasped the pencil as if it was an adder. "Monsieur, I could spell it out, but…"

"There, there," Monsieur Lautrec said patronizingly, taking the pencil from Fantine. "I'll write it down. Euphrasie isn't it?"

"Yes," Fantine replied, thankful that the darkness could hide her reddened face.

"No other name?" Monsieur Lautrec asked.

"That is all," Fantine said quickly.

"I see," Monsieur Lautrec said. "And your name?"

"Fantine. That's the only name I go by."

Monsieur Lautrec wrote this down before pocketing his things. "Very well then. Please bring your daughter to the schoolhouse at seven in the morning. Classes begin then. She'll be put with the other little ones."

"Oh thank you!" Fantine said ecstatically. "We shan't be late, I promise Good evening, Monsieur Lautrec," she added more delicately.

She almost ran the entire way back to her lodgings, eager to deliver the good news. On her way she passed by what she had heard was M. Madeleine's house. She saw that only one candle was in the window.

"Thank you Monsieur," she whispered before continuing back to the house.


	14. An Unlooked for Appointment

_Two updates to make up for the lack of posting regularity. _

**An Unlooked for Appointment**

As the days continued to grow colder, Fantine helped the children settle into a new routine. Every morning she would first bring Cosette to the schoolhouse, and then she would accompany Gilles to the printing shop and bindery. After this, she would run off to the factory just in time for the working bell's knell. She always gave Cosette and Gilles some pieces of bread for their lunch, sometimes with cheese, sometimes without. Usually Gilles would bring Cosette home from school at half past three.

One morning near the spring while they were walking, Gilles cleared his throat. "Madame Fantine, I can't go by the school to get Cosette. There are too many books to be printed by tomorrow," he said sheepishly.

Fantine struggled to keep dismay from showing on her face. "Well, I think I can do it just for today," she said. She didn't know of any neighbor near the school or near the house who could see to Cosette.

Cosette noticed Fantine's serious look as they approached the schoolhouse. "Maman, what are you talking about?" she asked.

"Oh nothing," Fantine said. She brushed some snow off Cosette's red dress, which was beginning to fit her better. "But I will be the one to get you from school today. How would you like that?"

"Very much!" Cosette said. She had been growing cheerier ever since going into school, and she usually talked to Fantine about everything she did there. Now if Fantine ever envied her daughter, she never made it known.

At the schoolhouse, Cosette let go of Fantine's hand. "I will see you later?" she asked anxiously.

Fantine kissed her daughter's forehead. "I promise."

Gilles adjusted his hat. "We'll see you later," he said.

Cosette nodded and waved to them before she ran into the schoolhouse. Gilles and Fantine continued on their usual route, parting ways at the printer's shop.

Once she was alone, Fantine allowed herself to lean against the wall of a shop. "I can't get Louise to help me, not after last time," she said aloud. She cringed at the thought of having to grovel before Madame Victurnien. "Maybe I can say I have left something important, or that I am being looked for…but that's a lie isn't it?"

In her reverie, Fantine did not hear the shouts from up the street and a rumble of a cart that was swiftly going out of control.

"Someone help them!"

"A jack, a jack!"

"We're being crushed!"

Fantine groaned as she opened her eyes, only to be greeted with blackness. She became aware that she was not the only one trapped in the darkness, and that there was a dreadfully heavy weight atop of her.

"What's happening?" she screamed in panic. She clawed around for a way to extricate herself but found none.

She saw a pair of boots by the cart. "We can't wait a quarter of an hour for a jack. They will be crushed," she heard M. Madeleine say quickly. "There is still room for someone to crawl in and lift the cart. We can have them out quickly. Is there any man here with strength and courage? Five louis d'ors for him!"

Fantine tried to squirm, but found herself wedged against the cart's driver. "Can they do it?" she asked fearfully.

"We'll be crushed at this rate!" the carter howled.

"Ten louis!" M. Madeleine shouted. Still no one budged. "Twenty!"

"My God!" Fantine whispered as she heard the cart creak as it sank lower. The carter next to her yelled again.

"It's not good will they lack, but strength. Monsieur, I have only known one man who can do what you are asking," Javert's voice came over the din.

"Who?" M. Madeleine asked.

"He was a convict at Toulon."

Fantine winced as she heard the carter shout again. "Someone help us!" she herself cried out as she heard the Mayor make a final plea.

Suddenly, she became aware of a third shape under the cart. She gasped as she recognized the gray-haired man. "M. Madeleine, no!" she begged.

"Monsieur Madeleine, come out of there!" the bystanders shouted.

The carter himself tried to push the mayor away. "Go! Leave us before you are crushed!"

M. Madeleine shook his head as he tried to make an effort. Fantine heard the cart shake before it was lifted slightly. "Quick, help!" M. Madeleine shouted.

Suddenly people ran to the cart and began to lift it as well. Fantine let out a cry of joy as she saw the daylight again. She saw that M. Madeleine's clothes were as dirty as hers. "Oh thank you, thank you God! Thank you M. Madeleine!" she exclaimed.

M. Madeleine smiled at them wearily. "Take them to the infirmary," he said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Don't try to move, Madame," he said to Fantine.

Fantine shook her head. "What of my daughter? I need to see her from school later!"

M. Madeleine handed a handkerchief to her to wipe her face. "She will be taken care of,"

Fantine sighed with relief as she shut her eyes, not caring if she was being watched. And indeed they were. Of the entire crowd, only Javert hadn't stirred.


	15. The Honest Mayor's Guests

**The Honest Mayor's Guests**

"_What would I give not to come here again," _Fantine mused as she inspected her bandaged foot as best as she could. As she tried to sit up in the infirmary bed, she caught sight of a passing nun giving her a stern look.

"You'd best lie down, or you might get worse, Madame," Sister Simplice said gently as she went to Fantine's bedside. "The doctor wants you to stay here a night, just to make sure that blow on your head did not do you too much harm."

Fantine winced. "What about the old man who drove the cart?"

"M. Fauchelevent? He broke his knee and he's going to have to mend for a very long time in the next room. Poor man—his horse died and his cart could not be saved," Sister Simplice said, crossing herself. "But thank the Lord, you and him did not fare worse than this."

Fantine sighed resignedly as she sank back down onto the pillow. "Sister, it's already afternoon. Has someone gone to fetch my daughter? Can I see her?"

Sister Simplice leaned in conspiratorially. "The Mayor himself."

"What!" Fantine gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "Doesn't he have other important things to do as well?"

"He won't mind much. He's a kind sort of person—everyone knows that," Sister Simplice said. "He goes out with his pockets full of coins, then comes back with none. They say he gives them to children or to the poor who haven't a fire in the garret."

Fantine nodded mechanically. "Do you know why he does it?"

"That's what everyone hopes to find out," Sister Simplice shrugged.

A knock sounded on the infirmary door. "Inspector Javert is here, Sister!" a porteress called.

Sister Simplice wrung her hands as she left the infirmary. Fantine strained to hear the buzz of conversation right outside the door, but only succeeded in catching the words "misdemeanor", "trouble," and the one phrase, "What would the mayor think?"

A few minutes later, Sister Simplice bustled back into the infirmary. "What on earth was he talking about? Some sort of trouble I hear," she said, shaking her head.

"Sister, where?" Fantine asked.

"In the workshop."

"Oh God!"

Sister Simplice almost frowned with disapproval, but her face softened. "You work there, Madame?"

"Yes, yes, Sister." Fantine replied quickly.

"I'm sure it's something a girl like you need not be worried about," the nun said reassuringly.

Fantine forced herself to smile and take in Sister Simplice's words. "I hope so," she murmured as the infirmary door opened again.

The porteress slipped in with a confused look. "Another visitor, Sister, looking for the mayor!" she said breathlessly.

"Oh, who?" Fantine asked.

"Madame Victurnien, from the factory," the old woman replied.

Fantine started. "Why, what about?"

"From what I gathered from her and the Inspector, something has gone missing in the workshop," the porteress said in a whisper.

Fantine felt something twist in her gut. "When?"

"Today, two days, she didn't say. She said the information was for the mayor alone, and the police," the porteress said.

Just then, voices sounded in the outside passage. "The Mayor is here!" Sister Simplice said.

Fantine bolted up in bed. "Has he brought Cosette here?"

"We'll see, Madame," the porteress said, hurrying to the door. Fantine quickly combed out her hair with her fingers while Sister Simplice straightened up the place.

"Maman!" a child's voice shouted over the hubbub outside. Fantine had little time to prepare before Cosette clambered onto the bed. "What happened?"

"I have had a little accident, darling," Fantine said, dusting off Cosette's dress. "But don't worry, I'm fine."

M. Madeleine appeared in the doorway and nodded to Fantine. "I told Gilles Feuilly that he should come here after his day's work. Are you doing better?"

"Oh yes, very much so," Fantine replied with a smile.

"What is she doing here? That little thief!" Madame Victurnien said from behind M. Madeleine.

"Thief? What do you mean?" M. Madeleine asked, turning to the crone.

Madame Victurnien pointed to Fantine. "That woman there is the thief I have come to speak to you about, Monsieur."

All eyes turned to Fantine, whose face had gone pale. "I do not know what you are talking about," she said.

"You lie! We found the coins in your worktable this morning!" Madame Victurnien said loudly.

"Madame, I haven't done anything! I swear!" Fantine cried.

"Inspector Javert has returned!" the porteress said from outside.

"Come to arrest her no doubt," Madame Victurnien said triumphantly.

"Monsieur Madeleine, I didn't do any wrong. I haven't coins to keep anyhow---oh you all know this, even you Madame Victurnien! I hardly have anything for myself, everything goes to the children!" Fantine said frantically.

"We shall see about that, Madame," Inspector Javert said from the doorway.

M. Madeleine faced him sternly. "Inspector, I believe this is a very inopportune circumstance."

"I am just here to make an inquiry, that is all," the Inspector said in a tone that was meant to be amiable. "For now, you all have nothing to fear."


	16. To Care and be Cared For

_A/N: No, this fic was not on hiatus. RL just had to take over for a while. _

**To Care and be Cared for **

Sister Simplice was the first to regain her composure. "My, you must have come a long way. There is something to eat in the next room—how would you like some currants and bread? Or some milk?" she said distractedly to Cosette.

Cosette furrowed her brow. "I'm not hungry."

"She'll take care of you, Cosette. Maman needs to speak with the gentlemen for a while," Fantine said firmly to the little girl. She swallowed hard as she watched Cosette amble out after Sister Simplice, who was crossing herself.

As soon as the door shut, Madame Victurnien glared at Fantine. "You did not show up at the workshop today," she said accusingly.

Fantine's face colored. "You can see _Madame_ that I have been injured."

M. Madeleine held up a hand. "This is no time for an argument. I can vouch for this woman; she was trapped under a cart in an accident," he said, glancing at Fantine. "However, we have yet to hear your side," he added, nodding to Madame Victurnien.

The crone took a deep breath. "The purse was empty when I checked on it this morning. Accounts have to be settled up as you know, M. Mayor. I asked some of the women to help me comb the factory premises for it. I didn't want to suspect a thief, till I came to the workspaces," she said in a low voice. "I found all the missing money, every last farthing of it at her space on the table."

"There must have been some mistake," Fantine said, looking at everyone. "What would I have to do with the purse?"

Javert's eyes narrowed as he looked from M. Madeleine to the two women. "Who else, besides you, Madame Victurnien, has access to the women's accounts and the funds?"

Madame Victurnien looked at him haughtily. "No one else, but myself."

Javert turned to Fantine. "And you, when were you last at the factory?"

"Yesterday," Fantine replied primly. "Just for work. I never stay long there after hours."

M. Madeleine cleared his throat. "Surely you will not bring them to the Prefecture, or take Madame Fantine into custody?"

"For now, I can do nothing, not without witnesses or the proof." Javert said dutifully. He made a motion as if he was reaching for his snuffbox but decided against it.

"Monsieur Inspecteur!" Madame Victurnien protested. "I demand that this thief be arrested!"

"I am not a thief, and you know that," Fantine said, rising from the bed. She smoothed down her hair, which had become a little unruly. "I do not know what reasons you have, Madame, but I do my work, care for the children, and nothing more."

Madame Victurnien's terrible gaze grew cold. "You impertinent girl!" she hissed. She looked at Javert. "I will bring my witnesses tomorrow."

"Their names will be enough. I or another inspector will take charge of asking them," Javert said brusquely.

Sister Simplice reappeared in the doorway. "Gilles Feuilly is here. He is asking about Madame Fantine," she said.

"Tell him I am alright. Can he stay here too for the night with Cosette?" Fantine asked Sister Simplice.

"I don't see harm in it," Sister Simplice said.

M. Madeleine nodded to Javert and Madame Victurnien. "We should finish discussing this matter outside, lest we disturb the other patients," he said firmly.

Javert nodded curtly. "After you Madame," he said, opening the door for Madame Victurnien, who did not even look at him on her way out.

Fantine sagged against the bedstead as she watched them leave. "Sister, I know I am innocent," she said to the nun who was still standing in the room

"Let God be the judge of that. He is kinder and more merciful than man," Sister Simplice said with an amiable smile. "I'll bring you some supper in a while."

Fantine winced as her head throbbed slightly. She decided it was better not to try to listen in on the hushed voices in the foyer. After a few minutes, the infirmary door opened again to admit M. Madeleine.

"That is settled, at least for the evening," he said with a reassuring smile.

Fantine sighed with relief. Though she dared not read too much into M. Madeleine's tone, she knew that she had no reason for the time being to fear Madame. Victurnien. "Once again you have helped me, Monsieur," she said to M. Madeleine.

"Tell me Madame, how are you faring? Are you having difficulties with your situation?" M. Madeleine asked Fantine calmly.

Fantine thought of saying that she had no problems, that she was doing fine on her own efforts, but she felt the truth tugging at her lips. "It is not easy."

M. Madeleine nodded. "You have no help from Cosette's father?"

Fantine sat up stiffly. "I manage well enough—" she blurted out before she noticed M. Madeleine's serious look. "Well, I wish I could."

M. Madeleine brushed some dust off his lapel. "You need a different situation now that matters have grown so difficult. I will help you find it, if that is what you wish."

"Where?"

"Some of the other businesses perhaps. I don't want you to go into service. It will not be easy on you or the children," M. Madeleine said, almost as if he was thinking aloud. "A solution will present itself. You need not worry."

"_I do hope he's right" _ Fantine thought as she forced herself to smile for him.


	17. Of Faithful Friends

**Of Faithful Friends**

If Fantine could have begged it of Sister Simplice and M. Madeleine, she would never have had reason to leave the infirmary and return to work. As it was, it took all her courage the next day to walk the now dreary way to the factory.

She forced herself to smile at a familiar face on the walk. "Good morning Louise."

Louise did not look up at Fantine. "Well, how have you been?" 

"I've been hurt, but I'm fine," Fantine said. She noticed her friend's posture was no longer jaunty, but bowed almost as if in shame. "Has something happened?"

Louise looked up sharply. "You honestly do not know?"

"Mme. Victurnien spoke to me yesterday," Fantine said wanly. "Louise, you know I did not do anything wrong!"

Louise did not smile sympathetically, as she would have done perhaps a day before. Instead, her lip twisted up in something of a pert sneer. "And you think you are the only innocent here?"

Fantine swallowed hard. "I do not understand."

"Well, you are as daft as I suspected," Louise said contemptuously. "Or rather, they. I did not want to open your drawer--"

"My God, Louise!"

The younger girl stopped as her face deepened red. "It wasn't my plan. It was the other women," she said quietly.

"But _why_?" Fantine asked, feeling as if she was going to be sick.

Louise smiled bitterly even as her eyes swam with tears of guilt. "They know everything. I mean, they saw that little girl of yours. And I daresay they were jealous."

"You didn't have to do it."

"Madame did not have to confront you. We only do what we have to." 

Fantine struggled to counter Louise's words, but she was left standing speechless as the younger girl walked away.


	18. Changes in Situation

**Changes in Situation**

If Louise's confession had been a floodgate, Fantine now felt the full deluge of the scorn of the women at the factory. She learned to bite her tongue at the whispers behind her back and to look down whenever people glanced her way.

One morning when Fantine arrived at the door of the factory, the foreman stood there with a small purse in his hands. "For you, Fantine," he said curtly as he handed it to her.

"What is this about?" Fantine asked warily.

"You're sacked, Fantine. For deception—you know how the Mayor detests dishonesty," the foreman said, leering at her all the while. His breath smelled sour, as if he had been drinking the night before.

Fantine fought not to gag. "How much is this?"

"Fifty francs. Now be on your way!" the foreman snapped, waving her off with a gesture. Fantine felt her cheeks burn as she went back the way she came. She had not gone very far when she caught sight of some of the other factory girls. As soon as they saw her, their tittering fell into hushed whispers.

"Put on airs, apparently. Now there she goes!" Fantine heard one of them whisper as she tried to slip past. She clutched the bag even more tightly as she walked to a street corner. She sat down on a torn up paving stone as she felt her head begin to spin. She knew that writing to Felix was out of the question—it was not worth risking his displeasure at this point.

"_Who will take me in now?"_ she wondered. She looked at her hands, still coarse from needlework and bead-stringing. "_They hardly know much else!_"

Fighting the urge to be sick with panic, she got up and began walking towards the shops. She willed her feet not to turn to M. Madeleine's office, not just yet. Her eyes scanned the posts and windows, hoping for a friendly face or a notice.

She had gone quite some way when at last she heard what sounded like someone cursing loudly. She caught sight of a man who she recognized to be the prison warden yelling at a little girl wearing a threadbare dress.

"Useless! I ask you to make a shirt, and you come up with this?!" the warden bellowed, holding up what resembled sooty rags.

"M'sieur, it fell into the ashes when I was trying to finish it!" the child quavered. Before the warden could reach for his cane, Fantine strode over.

"Monsieur, what is the matter? If it is a shirt you need, I can help her make it," Fantine said, looking the warden in the eye.

"I do not need just a shirt, I need a dozen," the warden said. He eyed Fantine carefully, as if sizing her up for the market. "You are a needlewoman?"

"I know the trade somewhat." Fantine said, raising her chin.

The warden nodded in acknowledgement. "Take this useless girl and teach her how to make shirts. I will pay you eleven sous a day."

Fantine tried not to wince at the sum. "Very well then. When do I begin?"

"Now. I will look at your work at the end of the day," the warden said. He shoved the girl forward. "You will work in this space here."

The child, a sullen waif who could not have been more than nine years old, led Fantine to a small backroom where three other women were crouched over half-finished shirts. Fantine squinted at the dim light as she picked up a shirt, followed by a needle and thread.

"You'll ruin your eyes soon enough, Mamselle," the little girl said to Fantine in a somber voice.

"I've already had more ruined than that," Fantine said ruefully as she tried to thread the needle.

It was blessing enough for Fantine that she had not gone blind by nightfall. She carefully added the eleven sous to the money she had received earlier that day before she made her way home.

Gilles and Cosette were seated on the step when she arrived. "Maman! They said you weren't at the factory!" Cosette blurted out when she saw Fantine.

Fantine yawned as she looked from her daughter to Gilles. "You brought her there?" she asked Gilles pointedly.

"Because of this," Gilles said, indicating a letter in his hand.

Fantine looked down. "I can't read it, Gilles."

"Oh. I forgot," Gilles said sheepishly. Fantine went inside and lit a candle that Cosette handed to her. The trio crowded around the table as Gilles unfolded the letter and cleared his throat.

"It says, '_To Madame Fantine,' " _the young man began. "_I must speak with you as soon as possible regarding your situation. There have been a few good turns that you must know of. Please come by my office tomorrow morning. Sincerely, M. Madeleine." _

Cosette's eyes went wide. "The old man!"

"Oh hush, Cosette. He's been terribly kind," Gilles said by way of light-hearted rebuke. He looked at Fantine concernedly. "Why, has something happened, Madame Fantine?"

Fantine sighed painfully. "I will tell you some time, but now I must get supper prepared," she said fretfully as she went to the small kitchen. She busied herself making some soup, all the while blinking from the strain in her eyes.

"_I do not mind sewing, but those rough shirts in such a place! I don't know how I can manage for long_".

Morning found Fantine rummaging for what good clothes she had left. She bravely put on her best dress, trimmed and tucked very simply at the hems. For good measure, she tied a neat band around her hair to keep it back from her face. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she shook her head on seeing her pallid complexion and tired eyes. She frowned as she looked down at her already worn shoes.

"_I could be more beautiful" _ she thought. However, she felt her conscience pricking her; had it not been her beauty that had led her astray at the very beginning of it all?

She shook her head to clear away an ill thought as she went to make sure that the children were ready for the day. After seeing them off safely, she headed towards M. Madeleine's house.

It was still early enough in the day, and few people were about. Still, even if there had been a crowd, Fantine would not have lowered her head. "God is good, and this will pass," she reminded herself as she arrived at the Mayor's door.

However, she saw a tall figure already there. "Good morning, Monsieur Inspecteur," she greeted, forcing some cheer into her voice.

Javert's eyes were dark as he gave her a cordial nod. "You hope to speak to the Mayor?"

Fantine nodded. "And you too, M'sieur?"

Javert took off his hat. "Normally I would ask you to go first, but today I must be discourteous. There is an urgent matter that needs his attention."

Fantine was about to say something to this when the porteress opened the door. "The Mayor will speak with you—" she said before she was stopped with a look from Javert.

"Forgive me Mesdames, but there is no time to lose," the inspector said as he walked past the women and went up into M. Madeleine's study.


	19. Grave Matters

**Grave Matters **

Fantine waited for Javert to round the street corner before she walked up to M. Madeleine's study. To her surprise, the door was ajar. In the study, M. Madeleine seemed to be absorbed in reading a heavy tome. 

"You sent for me, Monsieur?" Fantine asked. 

M. Madeleine looked up quickly. His eyes were clouded though a smile formed on his lips. "Yes I did, Fantine," he said, showing her to a chair. "Firstly, did you find a new situation on your own already?" 

Fantine bit her lip. "Sewing shirts for the prisoners, Monsieur." 

M. Madeleine's brow furrowed. "That will not help you very much. I hate to admit it, but the prison does not pay much" 

"I know," Fantine said calmly, though she could already feel the flush creeping up to her face. "Monsieur Mayor, I know I did not really want to ask you at first—it did not seem to be right, then." 

M. Madeleine nodded as his eyes glanced at Fantine's hands, which were still suffering from the previous day's work. "You are a needlewoman?" 

"I try," Fantine grinned. "And I can learn other things, I hope!" 

M. Madeleine's face brightened slightly with mirth. "Then you can help Sister Simplice at the infirmary. There is much linen there that needs to be arranged and sewn up, among many other things. I will pay you wages, of course, and extend what other assistance you might need as far as your daughter and Gilles are concerned." 

Fantine's jaw dropped. "You would do that for me, Monsieur?" 

The gentleman nodded firmly. "You could begin today, if you wish. Sister Simplice is expecting you, actually. She will tell you what needs to be done." 

"Oh I will do my best—thank you so much, M. Madeleine!" Fantine said joyously. She felt as if all of a sudden a ray of light had pierced the dark veil in her mind, but she could tell the same could not be said for the mayor. "I am happy, Monsieur, but what about you? You seem to be saddened." 

"Do I now?" M. Madeleine asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Fantine nodded. "Is it something that Monsieur Inspecteur said? Or something so important with the town?" 

"It is a matter concerning only me," M. Madeleine replied in a forced tone. "I do not wish you to question Monsieur Javert about it. He was only doing his duty." 

Fantine bit her lip, but she nodded in assent. "I thank you once again, Monsieur Mayor," she said, attempting a curtsy before turning to leave the study. Her steps were light as she went to the infirmary, but she could not get out of her mind the image of M. Madeleine's face, once so cheery but now grown so grave. 

"You need to sew these up—and there's the matter of the bandages," Sister Simplice said quickly as she and Fantine put away some folded cloth. She clucked her tongue with dissatisfaction at the height of the stack in the cabinet. "You could bring some of these home," she added, gesturing to the quickly darkening sky outside. 

Fantine fetched a basket and began putting some cloth in it. "I'll make pillowcases, Sister. I could even get some lace." 

"The simplest ones will do nicely enough. You need not be so vain," Sister Simplice said with a queer shake of her head. 

"_They would be nice all the same_" Fantine thought, but she bit her lip. "I'll be back in the morning Sister." 

Sister Simplice smiled amiably. "God bless you, Fantine, and the children as well," she murmured before going to her evening prayers. 

Fantine crossed herself before walking out into the night. She could hear the sounds of families finishing up dinner and of young men heading out for the night's merriment. She lowered her head when some of the dandies called out to her, just so they wouldn't see her pained eyes. 

The next morning, Fantine was awakened by the sound of a piercing shriek. "My God, Cosette!" she gasped as she ran down the stairs. 

Cosette was curled up at the bottom of the stairs, crying as she held out her right arm. Gilles, who had dropped his breakfast nearby, was trying to soothe the little girl. "She took a fall," the boy said frantically. 

Fantine winced as she saw the swelling beginning to show on Cosette's arm, clearly signs of a break. "Cherie, I'll get a doctor---no, I'll have to bring you to the infirmary," she whispered as she tried to pick up the child. Cosette only screamed and clung on to Fantine. 

Gilles swallowed hard. "I can spare a few minutes to help you," he said as he picked up Cosette's coat as well as Fantine's basket.

As they hurried, Cosette continued to whimper. "It hurts more when we run," she sobbed. 

"I'm sorry but there is no other way," Fantine said as they stopped to let a carriage pass. The church bell tolled, signifying the hour. 

Sister Simplice was waiting at the doorway. "My goodness, what happened?" she asked as she hurried the trio inside. "Call a doctor, young man," she instructed Gilles. 

"Will she be alright?" Fantine asked Sister Simplice as they set Cosette down on a bed. The little girl cradled her injured arm as she fought to stop crying. 

The older woman sighed as Gilles hurried out. "I have faith that God can guide the doctor." 

Cosette's eyes went wide. "What will he do?" 

Sister Simplice took a deep breath. "He will try to make the bones in your arm straight again," she said. 

"How?" Cosette asked, glancing at her arm. "Will he have to cut it off?" 

"No, no," Fantine said reassuringly. "I'm so sorry for the trouble, Sister." 

Sister Simplice shook her head. "We have time to work. There are not too many patients here today, and the Mayor is out---"

"Oh, where?"

"He did not say, but he was not headed for Paris," Sister Simplice said in a hushed whisper. "And the Inspector has gone to Arras, so I hear." 

"Arras?" Fantine repeated, having only heard of the town just then. "Is that far?" 

"Not really," the nun replied. 

"You do not suppose that M. Mayor was going to Arras as well?" 

"Perhaps not. What would he do there anyhow?" 


	20. Flight

**Flight**

That day, Fantine and Sister Simplice moved their sewing work to little Cosette's bedside when the latter had fallen asleep after the doctor's visit. The nun sewed steadily, stopping only to attend to the occasional requests of other patients. However, the mother was more distracted, looking up now and then to watch her daughter when the latter was asleep, or talk to her when she was awake. All in all, they were undisturbed in the day's work. 

It was about suppertime when someone knocked on the infirmary door. "Found some bread and cheese," Gilles said as he tiptoed in. His hair was matted with sweat and his jacket had new stains. 

Fantine looked up from the pillowcase she was hemming. "Thank you so much, Gilles," she murmured as the boy set down the bag he had with him. 

Sister Simplice bustled back in, carrying a letter. "So we shall have a sort of picnic here, I see," she said primly. "There are biscuits for you both." 

Cosette sat up in bed, taking care not to jostle her arm, which had been set in a sling. "Oh, where?" 

"In the kitchen, but we'll have them later," Sister Simplice said. 

Cosette nodded patiently. "I left all my things at home. What can I do?" 

"You won't need them, you're only here for one evening aren't you?" Gilles said. 

"I'll at least get some fresh clothes," Fantine said, getting up. "I'll be fine, so just stay and have your dinner." 

"Please stay Maman!" Cosette begged, tugging on Fantine's skirt with her left hand. 

"Besides, it's night out," Gilles blurted out. 

Fantine smiled resignedly as she sat back down. She helped Gilles divide the bread and cheese while Sister Simplice brought out several bowls of soup. After this simple repast, Fantine brought six biscuits, three for each child, while Sister Simplice went to her prayers. 

Gilles wolfed down his biscuits while Cosette ate hers more daintily. "What about you Maman?" the little girl asked, offering the last biscuit to Fantine. 

Fantine shook her head. "Sister Simplice made the biscuits for you." 

Confused, Cosette continued munching her food. Fantine sighed as she ruffled the little girl's hair. 

The next morning, just as Fantine was waking up, she heard what sounded like a commotion outside the infirmary. "What time is it already?" she asked Gilles, who was passing by. 

"Past nine-thirty, Madame Fantine, but there's been news!" the boy said fearfully. He glanced at the busy street then at Fantine. "Monsieur Madeleine has been arrested." 

Fantine's hand flew to her mouth. "Him? Are you sure? What for?" 

"They say he was a former convict by the name of Valjean," Gilles said in disbelief. 

"That cannot be!" 

"They are bringing him to the superior court for highway robbery." 

"How now?" 

"That's what everyone has been saying…" 

Fantine bit her lip and dabbed at her eyes. "There has to be a mistake. But even if there isn't…he's a good man, Gilles. There ought to be an explanation!" 

Gilles crossed his arms. "The people outside do not believe so." 

Fantine muttered something under her breath as she went to where Sister Simplice was writing pensively by the window. "Is it true, Sister?" 

The nun looked up with reddened eyes. "I am afraid so. God have mercy on him, and on us…" she murmured before breaking into tears. She pointed to the people talking outside in whispers but complemented with gestures. "Not even a day, and they are already cursing him!" 

Evening finally found Fantine eager to simply shut her eyes. She sank down in a chair and buried her face in her hands. She heard a footstep in front of her, and she looked up. 

"Monsieur Mayor!" she gasped incredulously. She found she could not comment on the change that had worked on him; his hair was perfectly white now, but his countenance was not that of the weighed down man who had left the town. Strangely, he was wearing a torn smock instead of his usual clothing. 

"You are here early," Jean Valjean said. It was then that he noticed Cosette on a hospital bed, and Gilles dozing on a nearby camp bed. "Or rather, what happened?" 

Briefly, Fantine related the events of the previous day. "But that is no matter, not now. I heard what happened, Monsieur." 

Valjean sighed heavily. "You…all of you here…no, I'd better leave now before you all are in trouble on my account." 

"Trouble? What?" Cosette cried, only then waking up. 

"You're leaving, and why?" Fantine asked Valjean. She looked him in the eye determinedly, though she could not completely still the fear welling up within her. "Monsieur, I beg you, for all the good things you have done for me, let me help you." 

At these words, M. Madeleine's face was troubled. "No, Fantine. It cannot be so; this is a matter of the law. I have to leave." 

"Where will you go?" 

"I do not know." 

Sister Simplice crossed herself. "If he has to leave, Fantine…" she began before biting back the words. 

"Then I will go with him," Fantine finished. 

"What?" Valjean said, bewildered at the young woman's words. 

"I will go with you, Monsieur. Cosette and Gilles will come as well. What do we have left here?" Fantine said quickly. She noticed that Gilles was already awake, and like Cosette, was listening in intently. 

Valjean's face was a mixture of shock mixed with admiration. "Do you know what you are asking?" 

Fantine had meant to say 'no', till a strange plan entered her mind. Wild as it was, she knew it would have to spill from her lips soon enough. "To Paris, Monsieur. Back from where I came," she said. 

"To Paris. That is far enough," Valjean said reflectively. 

"From there, Monsieur, you can go anywhere," Sister Simplice said wryly. 

As if sensing trouble, Cosette and Gilles were already on their feet. "To Paris, Monsieur Mayor, Madame Fantine? What for?" Gilles asked. 

Sister Simplice gave them an agonized glance before meeting Valjean's gaze. She nodded firmly as if resigned to the scene unfolding before her. "Go with God, all of you," she said just before someone harshly rapped on the infirmary door. 

At this singular sound, Fantine scooped up her daughter while Valjean opened a door leading to the back of the infirmary. Gilles pocketed a few bandages before Fantine signaled for him to go to the back door. 

Fantine stopped only to catch Sister Simplice's eye. "You have been so kind to me, Sister," she said. 

"Only as I should have," Sister Simplice said as another rap sounded on the door. "Go now, Fantine!" 

"The three of you first. It is better that way," Valjean instructed. The back of the infirmary opened out into a small yard. Only a fence separated the yard from the now darkened street. Gilles, who had gone to the head of the party, had little problem jumping this barrier. Fantine handed Cosette to him before climbing over herself. In her haste, she tore the hem of her skirt. Valjean silently followed after them. 

Once the four of them were outside, Cosette looked around. "Where?" 

"We will have to walk a long way," Valjean said warily. "Does it hurt you to walk, Cosette?" 

The little girl shook her head. "No, Monsieur." 

Fantine bit her lip as she saw a shadow near the building. "The other way!" she breathed, grasping Cosette's hand. The fugitives fled into the more shadowed part of the street, going a few paces before Gilles tapped Valjean's shoulder. 

"Now this way," the boy said in an undertone. In this fashion, he led them through some labyrinthine roads stretching from the north to the edge of the southern side before looping back to the north. Fantine found that more often than not, she could not see what she was stepping on; her only guides were the sounds of Valjean and Gilles shuffling or pacing ahead of her. She picked up Cosette to keep the girl from tripping over the unseen perils of the street. 

Before she knew it however, the only things before them were the wide plains and the woods. The drowsy, murmuring city was now behind them, dim save for the few pinpricks of candlelight in the windows. "Not now, not yet," Valjean said when he noticed Fantine hesitating. "They might be looking this far as well." 

Cosette stirred restlessly. "Maman!" she murmured, pointing to something in the distance. Fantine turned and saw the tell-tale shapes of men headed in their general direction. 

"Quickly!" Gilles whispered, leading them to the forbidding woods nearby. Fantine swallowed hard and grasped Cosette's hand. The little girl grasped back with clammy fingers as they followed Valjean deeper into the darkness. 


	21. The Pruner from Faverolles

**The Pruner from Faverolles**

It was nearly dawn when at last the fugitives stopped along an isolated stretch of roadside. Cosette lost no time in plopping down on the grass and dozing off. Gilles took off his shoes before following suit. However, Fantine sat up ramrod straight and looked at Jean Valjean.

"Who are you?" she asked. It was only then, now that the madness of flight was slipping away, that cold light was beginning to set in her mind. She realized that perhaps back in the infirmary she had been rash; she did not even know the man she was going off with.

The man gave her a weary look as he sat down on a rock. He had a makeshift staff in hand, picked up from a fallen bough they had passed in the dark. "I was a pruner from Faverolles," he said simply.

Fantine's jaw dropped. "Please do not make jokes," she said to Valjean.

Valjean's expression grew rueful, with a trace of mirth hidden in it. "What makes you say that?"

The young woman shrugged. "You are, or were the mayor of the town, and yet you were a pruner? I expected something more...grand."

Valjean shook his head. "I was a pruner till I was given five years for stealing a loaf of bread."

"What for?"

"I had a sister," Valjean said. "She had seven children. She was a little like you, now that I think about it. It was winter then, and I had no work, and the children were hungry."

The word 'hungry' sent Fantine's stomach rumbling. She laughed with embarrassment. "Now I wish we had some bread," she said shame-facedly.

Valjean reached into his coat and brought out a piece, which he divided into four. He handed one portion to Fantine, pocketed the two, but did not eat the last. "I broke a windowpane to get the bread. I was caught, and given five years. But I wanted to leave. I had to."

"So you escaped?" Fantine whispered.

"I tried several times. In the end, I had my sentence extended," Valjean said, his gaze growing far-off. "Nineteen years. I lost track of time in the galleys, of everything..."

Fantine chewed on her bread reflectively. "And how did you end up in Montreuil-sur-mer?"

Valjean managed a smile. "When I left Toulon, the galleys, that terrible place, I tried to work. I eventually ended up in Digne, homeless. And yes, it is true, I robbed a Savoyard child there. But I met a saint as well, in that town. I tried to rob the cure, or rather the Bishop. But when I was dragged back with the silver, he did something else."

"Which was?" Fantine breathed.

Valjean bowed his head. "He gave it to me as a gift. He said that he had bought my soul for God. How could I ever forget that?"

"Did he point you this way?" Fantine asked, gesturing back to the town.

"Not that kind of way, but a way nonetheless," Valjean replied. "I decided to look for a new situation--where no one had heard of me. In the end, I came to the town, and saved a child there from a fire. They asked my name, I gave one."

"Pere Madeleine," Fantine quipped.

"At first." Valjean said. "That is my story, Madame. Far from grand, or beautiful, but that is the truth."

Fantine nodded understandingly. "I grew up in Montreuil-sur-mer, M'sieur Valjean. I was an urchin, an orphan."

Now it was Jean Valjean's turn to wear an incredulous expression. "Truly now?"

"I knew nothing else till I was old enough to work," Fantine shrugged. "Begging, picking pockets, getting into fights---you would not have known me as a little girl, M'sieur."

Jean Valjean nodded. "And how did you come to Paris?"

"I worked among the farmers for a while," Fantine said. She bit her lip, struggling to rethread her story together from the patchwork that was her memories. At last, she looked Valjean in the face. "I was a little girl, and I had dreams."

"And they led you there," Valjean said. "And of Cosette..."

"Do not ask, M'sieur," Fantine said, looking down. Any joy she might have felt in retelling her life to her friend was now submerged by the memory of Tholomyes. "Not today."

"I see," Valjean said. He gestured to a clear spot in the brush that was still hidden from the main road. "Move the children here. We will move again at nightfall."

Fantine carried Cosette to the clearing while Valjean half-dragged Gilles. After getting the children comfortable, Fantine curled up next to her daughter. "And you?" she asked Valjean.

"Will stay watch for a while. I'll wake you up later," he said to Fantine reassuringly.

Fantine smiled before sinking into slumber. "_Now what a kind of man, to come out of Faverolles!"_


	22. A Necessary Venture

bA Necessary Venture/b

**A Necessary Venture**

To say that the next few days were harrowing would have been an understatement. The four fugitives walked most of the way, now and then taking coaches whenever they were too tired to walk. They only stopped at inns to ask for bread; they found water in the streams or sometimes in wells. Half the time, they had to leave the road behind and plod through the brush whenever they caught sight of a patrol.

On the fifth morning as they passed through a thicket, Gilles sat down on a rock and pulled off his shoes. "The soles have fallen off," he said as he wiggled his toes.

Valjean lost no time in taking off his own boots. "Here, use these."

Gilles' eyes widened. "M'sieur Madeleine, I cannot!"

Valjean winced, whether it was from the boy's refusal or the use of his former name, no one could tell. "Just take them. You will need them more than I do."

Fantine shook her head. "It's still a long way from here to Paris. You will need those soon too, Monsieur Madeleine, no wait, it's Monsieur Valjean, isn't it?"

Valjean managed a rueful smile. "We have no other way, do we?"

"All this while we haven't had more than bread in a few days," Fantine said.

In the meantime, Cosette tugged on Fantine's skirt. "Maman, there are some people passing there," she said, pointing to the road.

"No, we can't go that way, petite," Fantine said.

"But they can give us more than bread! And shoes!" Cosette exclaimed.

Gilles gave Fantine and Valjean a weary look. "We _could_ ask them. May we? Please?" he begged.

Valjean bowed his head. "Let us hope that they will help us," he said, but before he could move, Fantine had sprung forward.

The young woman dashed to the road, waving frantically at a cart being pulled by one old nag. "Monsieur! Some help!" she called to the skinny man holding the reins.

The man stared at Fantine with beady eyes. "What help, Mademoiselle?"

Fantine glanced back towards where Valjean, Cosette and Fantine were just coming out of the woods. "Some bread please. We have been walking for days. And if you have a pair of old shoes to spare, that would be fine as well," she said to the man.

A broad, ruddy faced woman peered out of the cart. "Now why are we tarrying, Nicolas?" she asked her husband sharply.

"She stopped us there, Paulette," the man said, gesturing to Fantine. He smiled at the travelers. "Forgive my wife. She was busy attending to our children, and she did not see you coming."

The formidable looking woman now looked at the other travelers. "And who are you?" she asked.

Valjean cleared his throat. "I'm called Urbain Fabre," he said.

"Is she your wife?" Nicolas asked.

Valjean shook his head. "My daughter. Her name is Fantine. She has her daughter here too, named Cosette."

"And the boy?" Paulette asked.

Gilles glanced at Valjean. "He's my grandfather too. Cosette is only my cousin, and Fantine my aunt."

"And where do you come from?" Nicolas pressed on, letting go of the reins.

"Faverolles!" Fantine cut in before anyone could say anything.

"My, that is a long way," Paulette said, her face taking on what would have been a kindly expression on someone else's visage. "You would want some bread, you said? Well, we can give you some, but not much. It's a long way to Paris." 

"You are going there too?" Cosette piped up.

"Why, yes," Nicolas said just as a baby's cry came from within the wagon. "Paulette, mind your brat!"

"I'm sick of him! Won't he stop his crying?" his wife said as she turned to someone into the wagon. "Eponine my treasure, bring out one loaf for these travelers."

Fantine smiled as a small girl climbed out of the wagon holding a rather small loaf of bread with one arm, and her doll in the other. Her auburn hair was held back by a white ribbon, and her dress just as fancily trimmed as Cosette's was. "Thank you," Fantine said, accepting the loaf from the child.

"Maman, look at her doll," Cosette whispered, glancing at the much-worn out toy that Eponine was holding. "It's a little lady."

Eponine looked at Cosette with an expression of surprise. "A lady?" she laughed. "No, no, she's my little girl, they are always like this nowadays."

"You want to play?" another girl, about a year younger, called as she joined her sister.

"Eponine, Azelma--" Paulette began resignedly.

"Let them play," her husband said in a low voice. He turned to Fantine and Valjean, who were dividing the loaf into four. "Paris, so you say?"

"Yes," Valjean said, watching as Gilles scarfed down his portion. "Where have you come from, Monsieur…" 

"Thenardier. Nicolas as the church knows me," the man said. "I have been making my fortunes since Waterloo, in the south."

Fantine nodded even as she appraised the older Thenardiers' clothing; it was clean but clearly falling into rags. "You fought there?"

"Yes, but received no commendation for it," Nicolas said. "Well, that is why we are striking for the city. You do not know misfortune, Monsieur, and Madame, till you are reduced to only this cart. And my children to feed too."

"I can help you once we get to Paris," Valjean said gravely.

At this, Thenardier's expression softened. "Perhaps you should come with us for a bit of the way, at least till we can come to an arrangement. It will be a snug fit in the cart, but certainly we can manage among ladies and gentlemen."

Paulette got out of the cart. "Girls, we must get going now," she said to her daughters.

Eponine, Azelma, and Cosette looked up at Paulette. "Now?" Eponine said.

"You can play in the cart," her mother said. "They are coming with us for a time."

Azelma smiled at Cosette. "You'd better not wake up our little brother," she said, putting her finger to her lips.

Cosette gave a nod of assent as she followed Azelma into the cart. Fantine sighed as she watched this scene. "You have a good family, Madame," she said to Paulette.

"Sometimes," the older woman muttered under her breath as she let the other travelers join her family in the cart.


	23. Lace and Calico

iA/N: It's almost summer where I am, so hopefully soon I should be able to get more updates in

_A/N: It's almost summer where I am, so hopefully soon I should be able to get more updates in. I doubt though this story will be finished soon (which is a good thing for some of you). Anyway, at last here it is…_

**Lace and Calico**

The Thenardiers' wagon was not very big, so Fantine was forced to put little Cosette in her lap while Gilles squeezed in a corner atop the family's valises. Valjean still walked outside with Nicolas.

Paulette gave Fantine an once-over as the latter was trying to keep her child from moving too much. "What were you and your father doing before you set out for Paris?" she asked.

Fantine busied herself with retying Cosette's hair. "I was a needlewoman, and my father had a business, which failed," she said with a smile. "And you Madame?"

Paulette made a noise which was something between a grunt and a sigh. "We tried our fortunes in business too," she said brusquely.

Fantine shuddered, both from Paulette's tone, and also at the realization that the older woman was somehow sizing her up. "_Clearly she does not think very much of us, what with the little we have brought _," she thought. She bit her lip as she remembered all the things that they'd left behind in Montreuil-sur-mer, things which she knew had some value.

Just then, Eponine tugged on Paulette's skirt. "Maman, how far is it to Paris?" the child asked.

"I have told you already, it's far away! Stop asking!" Paulette snapped.

Eponine's cheery expression soured slightly as she went back to sit with her sister. She pretended to rub dust off her sleeve with an affected attitude before looking at Cosette. "Do you still want to play?"

Cosette looked up slowly, clearly having been caught daydreaming. "Well, yes."

"Fine, I'll be a lady," Eponine pronounced. "You and Zelma can be visiting me." The little girl looked around before snatching up the most ragged of the dolls and giving it to Cosette. "This is your baby. Mine is someplace," she added, picking up another less shabby toy.

Cosette broke into a grin as she took the doll from Eponine and joined the Thenardier sisters in their corner. Paulette chuckled at this sight. "See how friendly these children are."

"Indeed Madame," Fantine said. She noted with some pride that though Cosette's dress was made of calico, it still managed not to look so decrepit beside the finery of the other girls. "_At least that is one thing I can still do._"

She heard Paulette's baby stirring in his cradle, which was really nothing more than a wicker basket. "I think he is hungry," Fantine said. She caught sight of Gilles apparently absorbed with folding a gray sheet of paper.

Paulette got up, nearly making the wagon lurch as she reached for her son. "This little brat always is."

Fantine bit her tongue as she inched towards the front of the wagon, where she had a good view of Valjean in deep discussion with Nicolas. She strained to catch some snatches of their conversation.

Nicolas was fidgeting with his hat. "Listen Monsieur, unless you can prove that you are respectable, I will have to take precautions even before we get to Paris. My family is respectable, you know."

"So is mine," Valjean said. "But listen, I do not have much I can spare. I will pay for the passage, then we will go our own way."

"As you are?" Nicolas asked. "I can get help in Paris too, that is if you can manage to stay with what it entails."

Valjean's seemingly tired face suddenly lit up with a smile. "I am more inclined to think, Monsieur Thenardier, that you are the one who needs _our_ assistance, not the other way around."

"Considering that we are bringing you, the girl, and those children to Paris, that would be fair," Nicolas grumbled.

As Fantine leaned to listen in better, she felt someone move nearby. "Madame Fantine, have you got a cord or string to spare?" Gilles asked, showing what appeared to be the beginnings of a fan.

"If only you had some paint, better paper, a few sticks, and a proper cord," Fantine said as she untied her hair ribbon and handed it to Gilles.

Fantine became aware of the glances that the Thenardier girls were sending her way. She heard Paulette cluck her tongue. "Such a pity a pretty girl like you had to come this way," the matron said.

Fantine sighed as she ran her hands through her hair, arranging it behind her shoulders. "_It's the same old story all the time, isn't it?"_she wondered bitterly.

"Keep your head low," Valjean instructed Fantine as afternoon began to wane. Their little party had stopped to water the horses, giving Paulette an opportunity to prepare a modest meal, for Nicolas to smoke, and for the children to play more freely. This time, the girls included the youngest Thenardier in their game, and now the little boy was toddling along as his older sisters and Cosette ran around, shrieking in their fun.

"We're reaching Paris, I see?" Fantine said to Valjean. "And none of us have passports!"

Gilles stirred uncomfortably. "Could we separate from them, and say we came from a nearby town like Lagny?" he asked. "My father once told me that you don't need a passport if you didn't move far from Paris."

"That might work, but what if M. Valjean is recognized?" Fantine asked.

Valjean looked around. "There is the river. I can go in that way, but you three must stay with the Thenardiers."

"How will we find you?" Fantine and Gilles asked.

Valjean reached into his coat furtively. Fantine heard the sound of ripping fabric before the gentleman handed her some notes. "Give some of these to the Thenardiers for our passage. Find lodgings--nothing too expensive. Leave Gilles' fan in the window," he instructed, glancing towards the end at the fan the boy was still holding.

"Understood," Fantine said. "M. Valjean, I'm so afraid."

"Take heart, Madame," Valjean said, donning his cap. "I had better go, for all your sakes. Give me a few days, and I promise I will make my way to your lodging."

"Paris is a big city. God help you!" Fantine said before Valjean hurried into the darkness.

Paulette peered out of the wagon. "Where has your father gone?"

"He forgot he had a creditor in Lagny," Fantine said.

Nicolas scowled at them. "Are we to wait for him?"

"No," Gilles said, getting back into the wagon.

"Eponine! Azelma! Gavroche!" Paulette called after her children as Fantine went to collect Cosette.

Cosette's bottom lip stuck out on finding her play interrupted. "Now, Maman?" she asked Fantine.

"We really have to get to Paris, cherie," Fantine said.

Cosette looked around. "Where is M. Valjean?"

Fantine wisely chose not to answer this as she led Cosette towards the wagon.

The cart approached the Barriere de Monceaux. In the shadows, not a single guard was present. Quickly Nicolas signaled to Paulette, Fantine, and Gilles. "We must push this cart before the sentries come! The horse is about to collapse."

The trio leapt out of the cart, much to the stifled laughter of the children within. Fantine got behind the cart beside Paulette, while Gilles pushed from the side. With this supreme effort, they made their progress towards the gap in the barrier. Just when they were almost through, a voice shouted, "Halt!"

Everyone looked up at the patrol standing near the barrier. "Where do you come from?" the sergeant heading the patrol asked Nicolas.

"Montfermeil," the man replied. "With my wife and children."

"And I as well. I and my nephew and my daughter just sought passage," Fantine said, cutting off the sergeant before he could ask her.

The sergeant, taken aback, only nodded. "Very well then," he said, ushering the group forward.

Once they were far away, Fantine caught the gazes of the Thenardiers. "Montfermeil?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"Bother the passports," Nicolas said under his breath. "And you as well, you and what you said!"

Fantine bristled. "I had no time to rummage for papers."

"I do hope for his sake that your father has a passport," Nicolas said. "Do you know anything of lodgings in Paris?"

Paulette threw her husband a significant look. "You brought us here without knowing where to go? Any place you know?" she asked.

Nicolas scratched at his stubble. "Les Halles."

Fantine shrugged. "For lack of a better place."

Paulette elbowed her husband. "If only you had talked to that general!"

"A general?" Fantine asked curiously.

"Waterloo!" Nicolas said out loud. "But forget that, girl, we have more pressing matters at hand. There has got to be some place we can think of."

Fantine bit her lip. "The Quartier Latin. I used to live there," she said.

"And will anyone remember you?" Paulette asked.

Fantine nodded. "_Even if I want it otherwise_" she decided.


	24. The Quartier Latin

_After a long hiatus..._

**The Quartier Latin**

Fantine had once heard from Tholomyes that only two things were constant in life: God and change. Today, if Fantine had encountered her former lover, she would have added "The Quartier Latin" to the list.

"Bah, this is full of unruly students!" Nicolas Thenardier griped as he led his family in Fantine's wake. "Can't you find some place more respectable?"

Fantine shook her head. "With what we have, maybe not. Anyway, Monsieur, this is just for a short time or so."

"You said you had lodgings here," Paulette said, balancing Gavroche on her hip. Éponine and Azelma clung to her skirts, fearful of the brash laughter of the students walking by.

"Yes, but I cannot remember the street name," Fantine said. She wished her feet remembered a little more of how to get to her old rooms.

Gilles blinked at a sign in a window. "The concierge says she has three rooms for boarders," he said.

"Yes, rooms in a garret," Paulette frowned, pointing to the building's upper storey. "You can take that if you like. I won't lodge there."

Fantine looked at her. "Then thank you, Monsieur, Madame. I believe this is where we have to part ways. I dare not spend too much of my father's money."

Cosette, sensing a calamity, ran over to her new friends. Paulette clucked her tongue at this sight. "These poor children! Just when they have become like sisters!"

"Listen Paulette, please note this address and let me know yours too," Fantine said. "You can bring the girls to play with my Cosette. And I do wish to find you all for friendship's sake."

Nicolas and Paulette exchanged knowing looks. "We will see each other, when your father returns," Nicolas said darkly. He took his wife's arm. "Come now, Paulette, bring the brats."

Fantine went to where Cosette was bidding goodbye to Éponine and Azelma. "Come now, Cosette," she said.

Cosette bit her lip tearfully. "I'll see you again, please?" she said to the Thenardier sisters.

"That depends on Maman," Éponine said, giving Cosette an awkward handshake. "Take care of yourself."

Azelma also shook Cosette's hand before running off after her mother. Cosette buried her face in Fantine's skirt.

"There, there, Cosette petite, they won't get very far," Fantine reassured her daughter as they went in after Gilles into the tenement.

The concierge, a brittle old woman, was sweeping the hall. "Of all the trouble upstairs!" she muttered to herself, unaware of the entrance of the three young people.

Fantine cleared her throat. "Madame, we heard you have rooms for rent?"

"One room in the garret," the concierge said. "My best room was taken by a student."

"Oh, that is no matter," Fantine said. "How much will I owe you for six months?"

"Thirty francs," the concierge said absent-mindedly.

"Is the room furnished?"

"Very little,"

Fantine bit her lip. "I used to pay better elsewhere!"

"Madame, I don't know...it was years when you left," Gilles pointed out. "Besides, I think we can manage with a good living and M. Valjean's return!"

Fantine nodded, willing confidence into herself. "We'll take the room, Madame. The three of us at first, but my father will join us after a while."

The bleary eyed concierge nodded. "Done then," she said, fishing a key out of her tattered skirt pocket.

Just then, footsteps sounded on the second floor. The concierge looked up sharply. "Now just where do you think you're going, young man?"

Fantine stifled a smile at the sight of a dark haired young student bounding down the stairwell. He was still in his shirt sleeves and a red waistcoat. "I'm off to the laundress to get back my coat," he said. "And maybe pay out the gendarmes who ripped it."

"You do that, I will evict you!" the concierge threatened her tenant. "I do not want trouble, Monsieur Bahorel!"

Bahorel merely shrugged cheerily. "You're taking the upstairs room?" he asked Fantine, Gilles, and Cosette.

"Yes," Gilles said. "My name is Gilles Feuilly. This is my aunt, Fantine, and my cousin Cosette."

Bahorel heartily shook Feuilly's hand, nearly breaking the boy's grip. "I wish I could have had a better introduction, courtesy of Madame. They call me Bahorel, but Damien will do."


	25. Lost and Found Faces

A/N: Another update

_A/N: Another update! Sorry if I haven't been so regular with these things. This will be short, since I'm trying to figure out a way to segue the plot to where I want it. _

**Lost and Found Faces**

"_Why do they all have to run so fast?" _Fantine wondered as she walked more quickly to keep up with the three youngsters who had outpaced her. After a hearty breakfast courtesy of Bahorel, they had all gone into Les Halles. Fantine had put on a clean dress and a hat with the intent of impressing a potential employer.

"As I was saying Feuilly, there are places for everything. You just have to know where to look," Bahorel said in what was meant to be a joking sermon. "Say, if you are at a loss, there's a friend of mine who has good recommendations for everything."

"Thank you, but I suppose I should manage to get a job on my own qualifications," Feuilly said uncomfortably.

"You have to get some more fabric and muscle on you, or you'll be taken for a schoolboy," Bahorel pointed out.

"Which you still are?" Feuilly retorted, much to his new friend's laughter.

Cosette had run back and grabbed Fantine's hand. "Maman, look!" she shouted, pointing to a display of dolls in a stall.

"Not now, petite. We have to wait for M. Valjean to get back," Fantine said. She said a silent prayer, hoping that the fan in the window would be a sign enough for her benefactor.

Cosette's lip drooped. "But it's so pretty!" 

"I don't have enough money," Fantine said firmly. "Some other day, I promise, Cosette. Maman has to find some work first."

"Madame, are you a seamstress? I know of a lace maker's down that road," Bahorel said amiably to Fantine.

"Oh really? What is the address?"

"I am not sure, but look for a green house with lace in the windows. You can't miss it or the signpost above the door."

"Thank you, M. Bahorel," Fantine said.

"Bahorel will do. Monsieur is too…out of date," the student said. "I'll help Feuilly here find a place,"

"What of your classes today?" Feuilly asked.

"That can wait another day," Bahorel said confidently, clapping the teenager on the back.

"Alright, take care," Fantine said, taking Cosette's hand. She looked back briefly just in time to watch the young men disappear into the throng.

_"I know this street," _she told herself. If she blurred her vision a little, she could almost see again the fluttering skirts, the giggling couples, and the haranguing groups from another time she knew.

"Maman, it's Ponine!" Cosette suddenly cried, tugging on her mother's hand. Fantine wheeled around and felt rage rise up within her at what she saw.

A little girl wearing a dirty calico dress cowered in the doorway of the lace shop, pleading with a rather blowzy looking woman wearing a heavily trimmed dress. This woman was holding a broom as if to sweep the child out into the street.

"I told you, get your hands away from my things! I can't have dirt all over the lace in this shop!" the woman barked.

"But Papa told me to give this letter! I can't go home until I give it!" Eponine yelled, her tone angry yet plaintive at once.

Fantine marched up to them. "What is the matter? Eponine, what brings you here?" she asked.

Eponine looked up at Fantine with an expression of shock that was half-hidden under her tangled auburn hair. "If I don't give this letter, we'll spend another night under the bridge! I don't want to!" she said loudly.

"Oh God!" Fantine murmured, unaware that in the commotion her hat had gone askew. "Under a bridge? All of you?"

The woman in the doorway had grown silent. "La Blonde?!"

At the sound of her old nickname, Fantine glanced at this woman's face. Despite the ruddy, rotund appearance, she could recognize a trace of delicateness left in her cheeks. "_It can't be--but she was the only one of us who knew how to shout like that!" _

"Favorite, what have you come to?" Fantine gasped.


	26. More Reunions

_A/N: Finally, something to help the process along. Prepare for a time-skip soon…_

**More Reunions**

"I shouldn't have told so many lies."

The professor's daughter, once known as the Old One or Favorite, now wrung her hands in the backroom of the lace shop where she had admitted Fantine and the two little girls. Now Cosette and Eponine sat in a corner furnished with milk and biscuits, their chatter only slightly subdued. Fantine on the other hand sat on a table, listening to her former friend's woes.

Favorite had taken up the habit of pacing. "I was in love with that lovely boy I told you about, but I did care for Blacheville, just a little at least to miss him. Well, when I got home, my mother told me I had been putting on airs. I didn't want to listen to her. Oh, you know it wasn't so difficult to meet other men, but they never paid me anymore attention than a twirl or two, or more than "Favorite, love, come here. I want to see that face of yours." How awful!"

"So how did you end up being the proprietress here?" Fantine asked.

"I'll tell you in a moment," Favorite said patronizingly. "My mother's doing again brought me down. She gossiped too much, she scared every young man! So maybe I wasn't that kind to her, but really, she did not care for me. When we did part company some six months ago, I already had a place here. The rough who owned this place took sick some time after, and gave it to me."

Fantine smiled a little enviously. "Where are Dahlia and Zelphine?"

"I'm not sure," the older woman said. "Last I heard, Zelphine was married to some playwright. Dahlia is still in Paris, I think. So what about you? What have you been doing for yourself? Did that adorable Tholomyes ever come for you, like you hoped he would?"

"He didn't." Fantine answered more coldly. "I went home, didn't like my situation, and came back here."

"Your little one has grown," Favorite said, wistfulness creeping into her tone. "Who's the other?"

"The little girl of a friend," Fantine said. "Her family has fallen on hard times.

"I don't have to look to know that," Favorite said. She bent to open a grubby wood chest and lifted out from it a small chenille dress that had lace sewn everywhere.

Eponine saw the dress and made a face. "Maman used to make better ones."

"Just put it on, Eponine. I'm sure your Maman would want you to wear clean clothes," Fantine said, handing the dress to the child.

"Azelma's are dirtier," Eponine said petulantly before going off to change her clothes in a corner.

"So what can I do for you? You were hoping for a job, I bet?" Favorite said to Fantine. "Well, I'll tell you now that times are much harder. I don't give much."

"I'll take anything within reason," Fantine pointed out. "And I keep a tighter hand on my purse."

A ghost of a smile flitted on Favorite's face. "What do you say you start now?"

"I can, but I think we should see to Eponine's situation first," Fantine said, noticing the little girl emerging from a corner, looking uncomfortable in the garment.

Cosette nearly burst into giggles. "Ponine, you look like a cake!"

"Shut up! You look like a louse!" Eponine yelled.

"Girls, stop that!" Fantine reprimanded, getting up. "Cosette darling, do not taunt people like that. Eponine, where are your parents?"

"They told me to meet them in the Place Saint Michel." Eponine replied. "We have no house. And no food either."

Favorite clucked her tongue in a matronly manner. "The same old story."

"You know, there is another garret room where we are," Fantine said, stooping to speak to the little girl. "What do you say I talk to your parents and suggest that you all come with me?"

Eponine nodded trustingly. "Better than the bridge."

"Good, that's settled then," Fantine said confidently, though inwardly she could feel anxiety welling up within her. "_M. Valjean, where are you?" _

000

The Place Saint-Michel was what once Tholomyes had described as "merry chaos" to Fantine. However, upon actually seeing it years ago, and once again on this day, Fantine had only one judgment for it: ugly.

"_Even now they treat children so terribly," _she thought as she saw yet another gaunt child in rags. The slap of bare feet on cobblestone was almost deafening. "_No, I don't want to remember…" _

"Madame Fantine!" she heard Feuilly call to her. Fantine looked up in time to see Feuilly and Bahorel standing outside a café.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the two young men.

"Celebrating. He is an apprentice now with the fanmaker's," Bahorel grinned. "I envy your freedom, Feuilly: your own money, your own craft, and the occasional lady who will ask for your creations,"

Feuilly shrugged. "It does not look like easy work," he said, hiding his paint-spattered fingers.

Bahorel glanced at his pocket watch. "Now where is Capital R? Did he, God forbid, actually go to class today?"

"Who's Capital R?" Eponine asked curiously.

"A comrade of mine," Bahorel said. Suddenly, a yell came up from the other end of the street. A cabriolet rushing by had gone into a pothole, thus tumbling its passenger out onto the pavement.

Quickly, the entire party rushed over to the aid of the unfortunate passenger. "Oh God! Monsieur, are you alright?!" Fantine cried.

"He's bleeding," Feuilly said, taking off his neckerchief.

Fantine felt sick on seeing the blood staining the young man's face, leaking out from a cut that was barely concealed by his receding hair. "Help me carry him," she begged Bahorel as Feuilly tried to bandage the wound.

"No need to strain yourself," a gruff voice said. Fantine gasped as she watched Valjean quickly scoop up the injured stranger and carry him into the nearby café.

Fantine helped Valjean settle the injured man on the floor while Bahorel raced to the backroom to ask for help. "Where have you been?" Fantine asked Valjean.

"Getting resources. Where are you all staying?" he replied.

"Near here," Fantine said. She glanced at Eponine. "But the Thenardiers are under a bridge."

"Were under a bridge," Valjean said grimly. "I saw them leaving the bridge."

At the sound of this, Eponine let out a cry. "Monsieur, where did they go?"

"I do not know," Valjean said. "I tried to talk to your father, but he was too busy fighting with your mother to argue."

"Where will Zelma and I find them?" Eponine asked frantically. "Are you sure they left?"

Valjean nodded grimly. Eponine burst into tears and had to be led off by Cosette into a corner. Just then, Bahorel returned with the café's dishwasher.

"Louison, can you please help us with him?" Bahorel said.

Louison took the towel she brought with her. "H-how did this h-happen?"

Despite the stammer, something about Louison's voice had Fantine on the edge. "_If it is her, how did she get that stammer?" _

"He fell," Valjean said. "I think this poor gentleman must have lost his luggage as well."

At the sound of this, the injured young man stirred and groaned. "Not again."

"Don't strain yourself, Monsieur!" Louison cried. As she tried to hold the man down, her sleeve hiked up a little, revealing a gold chain around her wrist.

Fantine let out a gasp, having seen a chain like it before. "Dahlia!"

Louison turned with surprise. "What? Who called me that?"

"That chain you wear--it was Listolier's. He used to wear it in his cuffs, tied thrice," Fantine said almost incoherently. "Dahlia, it's me, Fantine."

Louison nearly burst into tears. "Really it's you! What have you been up to all these years?"

"A lot," Fantine said.

Bahorel's jaw dropped. "You knew each other?"

"Apparently a timely meeting," the patient said wryly. "Like my own with the street, I should warrant. Whose the owner of this unfortunate tie?" he asked, pointing to the bandage.

Gilles raised his hand guiltily. "Who are you?"

"They call me Lesgle, but I have yet to think of a name for myself."

"Lie still, Lesgle. We still have to clean your cut," Valjean instructed. "And I believe the ladies here have some story telling to make."


	27. Amis et Hommes, Amies et Femmes

A/n: In honor of barricade day

_A/n: In honor of barricade day!_

**Amis et Homme, Amies et Femmes**

"_Favorite on hard times, Dahlia stammering because of a brain fever—I can only hope that Zephine hasn't fallen on such misfortune," _Fantine thought as she temporarily left the company of her friends in order to see to her other companions. Feuilly, Bahorel, and Lesgle had taken to talking boisterously at a table. They had been joined by another young man who was unshaven with a rather dark complexion.

"_Probably the Capital R they mentioned," _Fantine noted. She saw Cosette and Eponine standing on two chairs, their faces pressed up to a window.

"What's taking Maman and Papa so long?" Eponine asked wanly. "Will your grandfather find them?"

Cosette nodded trustingly. "He can do anything."

"I wish my parents could do anything," Eponine said a little sadly.

Cosette turned to smile at Fantine. "Maman, M. Valjean said he'd try to find Ponine's parents."

"Well, if they're supposed to meet her here, then they can't be far," Fantine said reassuringly. She realized that the two little girls were holding small cakes in their hands. "Where did you get those?"

"They bought them," Eponine said, pointing to the young men.

"Gilles…" Fantine reprimanded Feuilly.

Feuilly held up his hands. "Madame, it was Grantaire's doing," he said, pointing to the unshaven man.

Grantaire stood up. "Have I offended you, Madame?" he asked gallantly.

"No, not at all," Fantine admitted. "I just feared that Gilles might have spent some. We're a little hard up."

Suddenly, Eponine let out a squeal. "Maman! Azelma!" she cried as two people entered the café, followed by Jean Valjean.

"Ah there you are!" Paulette exclaimed, letting her oldest daughter embrace her. "Your sister was looking all over for you."

Azelma looked at Eponine enviously. "Can I have a dress and cake too?"

"You can have some cake, Mademoiselle. Though finery will be long in coming," Lesgle said gallantly, handing a cake to Azelma, who wolfed it down hungrily.

Paulette eyed Fantine critically. "And how have you been doing?"

"Scraping by," Fantine said. She winced at the tattered state of the older woman's clothes. "Where are your husband and your son?"

Paulette let out a resigned sigh. "Someplace. Nicolas insists on looking for some colonel or general he "saved" at Waterloo."

"Maman, I thought Vroche was--" Azelma began before Paulette gave her a warning look.

Unease leapt up in Fantine's chest. "Something has happened, Paulette?" she asked.

"In these places, it's hard to take care of children," Paulette said brusquely. "If Nicolas wants the brat, he can have him. He should be safe anyhow."

As if sensing trouble, Louison came forward. "Can I get something for you Madame?" she asked.

Paulette sat down as Louison attended to her. Favorite watched all of this for a moment before busying herself with fixing a string in her bonnet. Valjean nodded to Fantine and they both stepped aside.

"M. Valjean, Paulette did not abandon her child, did she?" Fantine asked him fearfully.

"She told me she left him at the Rue des Filles du Calvaire," Valjean said somberely. "I checked and the child was not there."

Fantine paled. "Oh God." She felt a sudden impulse to run and seek out Gavroche, but despair kept her feet rooted to the floor.

She could see that Valjean's countenance was also heavy with sadness, perhaps tinged with guilt. "Maybe someone took him in," she whispered.

"Maybe," Valjean said, eyeing the three Thenardier females. Eponine was busy explaining something to her mother, who had a puzzle if not interested look on her face. Azelma was polishing off yet another cake.

After a few moments, Paulette walked up to Fantine. "My daughter tells me that she wants us to take the room next to yours," she said.

"True, but the decision is in your hands, Paulette," Fantine pointed out.

Paulette nodded heavily. "I only want what's best for my girls," she said. "So is this place far?"

"Not very," Fantine replied. She nodded to Favorite, who was starting to wear a scowl. "I'll be back soon for work and for the others, I promise," she said before following Paulette out of the café.


End file.
